NX26331 - HOLLAND, Bruce Hedley, Pte.

Nominal Roll details - NX26331 - HOLLAND, Bruce Hedley, Pte.

4) Book No. 5 - 13th January, 1942 to 7th February, 1942

Original diary written by NX26331 - Pte. Bruce Hedley HOLLAND. Transcribed by John Holland.

Covers the period from 13th January 1942, the day before the Gemenche ambush, to 7th February 1942, eight days before the fall of Singapore.

NO. 4
B. HOLLAND
"B" COY 2/30 BN
A.I.F.

Continued from Book 4

The engineers returned at dawn, 13/1/42, and we rigged small shelters to sit under till we were recalled to the Battalion. Eventually the ration truck picked us up and we rejoined the Company to have a belated breakfast in the rain, bread, jam and cold coffee with a tin of "Columbia", pinched en route. Jimmy was all "het up" about the position, and made up a yarn about us being bombed and machine gunned, as were the engineers. This tale flashed to Battalion H.Q., and he was severely reprimanded and threatened with exclusion from the show as a punishment. Rations were drawn for several weeks and buried near Battalion H.Q. position, as we might have to wait a fair while in ambush. Gemas was to be evacuated and shelled behind us, to further deceive the enemy. I received my last letter here, and destroyed it and all other identification papers. Traffic was thinning out on the road. We were issued with brand new parangs, extra rations (one tin of bully in each shorts pocket), and as many grenades as we could carry. Volunteers were called for from amongst the single men to be grenade throwers, and take up dangerous posts. After dinner we were assembled in platoons and given the "P". We were to travel as lightly equipped as possible, so, accordingly, dumped respirators, gas capes, haversacks and valises. At first, we were intended to also dump our rain capes, but eventually kept them with us, as the rain had not ceased. We were to burrow into the jungle and make no movement or noise till the charge blew up the bridge, then the "grenadiers" were to perform, closely followed by L.M.G.'s, rifles, etc. My position was on a high bank overlooking the bridge and my job was to engage the first transport on the other side, then the third, fifth, etc., while Ray Donald on the opposite bank opened up on the second, fourth, etc., one magazine to each truck. 12 Platoon had the position of honour nearest the bridge, with 8 Section on the left and 9 on the right hand side of the road, then 7 Section, Company H.Q., 10 Platoon and finally, 11 Platoon, 620 yards along the road.

Captain Duffy would be in telephone communication with B.H.Q. all the time and would explode the charge when he considered a suitable number had passed the bridge. We had a hot meal, thick stew which we drank out of jam tins, as our gear had been stacked. The padre, kitchen fatigue and Company orderly room staff joined us as we got our orders. We got a quick treatment from our C.A.P. orderlies Ken Dale, Laurie Drayton and Bluey McDonald, and were told "no prisoners", "leave the wounded" and "if any man panics, cut his throat!". These orders were never carried out to the letter, however. To pass the time, as it was too wet to sit on the ground, I read a book, "Gold out of Celebes", standing under a tree, wet to the skin. I put this book up on a tree crotch, intending to return and finish it, but never came that way again. My spare barrel, ramrod and tripod were on B5. I was glad that Ted never had to lug them along. As Joe Noble had a Tommy gun, he was temporarily attached to 8 Section. The anti-tank rifle and 2" mortar were not taken with us, and the rifle bombers carried "68" (anti-tank) grenades, to deal with trucks on our side of the river, as well as 36's and 69's.

We moved out in aircraft formation, 8 Section in single file on the right of the road with two scouts well out in front. "C" Company was dug in on the right, and "A" and "Don" on the left of the road. They yelled out "Give them one for me, mate!" as we passed them and their supporting anti-tank gun crews. We froze when the air alarm sounded, but it was only a misunderstanding and no planes appeared. Trucks were piled in the ditch where they had broken down and been abandoned, and we alternately passed and were passed by a sig. truck laying wires with the aid of a long fishing-pole affair.

Alan took my gun. He said, "You will be flat-out carrying this before you're finished." Ted also got assistance with the cumbersome steel box of 12 magazines, loaded now to their most efficient capacity, 26 rounds.

The engineers were still labouring when we reached our destination; they had mined only one side (near) of the bridge, and put in more than the customary charge. Their traces they cleverly concealed with fresh asphalt, etc. They gave us many tins of fruit, which were greatly appreciated. Ted got a tin of peaches and Company H.Q. some whiskey. We never got a drink, however, as we moved immediately into the jungle to prepare our position, a position to be occupied silently for a week, if necessary. I scrambled up to my little bank and hacked a small opening in the matted vines to site the gun. My lying-down posture was uncomfortable as my feet lay uphill and to the left. The ground was a sodden carpet of dead, decaying leaves and the icy cold drips from the foliage overhead were 100 times worse than the actual rain. If I lay on the groundsheet, the rain fell on me. If I pulled it over me, the ground was sopping, so it really mattered not what I did. The gun was covered, though, ready for instant action. Ted was about 10 feet away on my right, overlooking the cutting, and Joe Noble was on my left with his Tommy gun. Down underneath were Ray Brown and Bill Smith with their cup dischargers and grenades, and the rest of the Section were behind Ted, lining the bank back to Company H.Q. When pulling out we would have to descend to the road. Other sections would have to cross it, so all enemy had to be mopped up before moving back.

An Artillery officer, Lt. Makepeace (2/15 R.A.A.) and his batman were with Company H.Q., as were several engineers. Our orders for the night were that no one slept (!), that we remain silent and show no light. It rained constantly, and I must confess that I smoked both pipe and cigarettes till the rain found its way into my matches, and I could not get a light. I dozed in the early hours and awoke to a deserted scene - no traffic at all on the road and no sound or movement from the surrounding jungle. Towards noon, the drizzle ceased and the sun shone sickly through the clouds. I peeled off equipment and shirt and spread out my pay book etc. in a patch of sunlight to dry, after servicing the gun. Half of a 7 lb. tin of Bully was passed down to Joe and me, and we ate some off my sheath knife blade, some biscuits, and drank some cold water. Joe had about 200 cigarettes in watertight tins, so I promised myself to hang close to him.

Several boongs appeared on the road. They glanced around curiously as they crossed the bridge and hurried past our post. Sam Watts stood up, over the road, and yelled out "Do you want these, Mr. Head?" It was a dead give-away but apparently the boongs were genuine refugees and not 5th columnists. We should actually have executed them, as their knowledge of the trap could have doomed us all.

We sensed the approach of the enemy when a small, single-engined plane flew over us several times, following the roadway. Then, at 16.02 I saw three cyclists appear around the bend, about 400 yards away. I said to Joe "Here come three boongs on bikes", and he looked up and said, "By ------, they've got rifles!" They had them, too - slung across their shoulders or strapped to their bikes. Several more appeared in single file, then suddenly a living avalanche swept around the bend, 6 deep and about a hundred yards long. They reached the bridge, swept past it, and up the slight rise past me, hundreds of yellow men clad in many different costumes, some with only singlets, shorts and sandshoes, and their bikes were just as varied in appearance. Some ran smoothly, some rattled and scraped, and the men laughed and joked as they panted past. I wonder now why they did not see me as I gazed down on them and snuggled into my gear. More and more bunches appeared and pedaled past till hundreds had crossed the river. Several men rode past on motor bikes, probably officers, then I awoke from a daze to realize that the bridge was gone. A few splintered timbers, a huge cloud of dense smoke and the constant "thud - thud" of grenades in the cutting bringing me to realization of my job. At first I could not see over the river and fired several magazines into the smoke haze. When the air cleared a scene of carnage was apparent, for the road was literally carpeted with still bodies for about 100 yards. The blast from the explosion had killed these men as well as blowing those on the structure into oblivion. Debris fell all around me. On my side of the river there was more action - the hail of shrapnel from grenades had ceased to tear through the leaves overhead, and automatics and rifles were cracking at the survivors. I saw several of the enemy attempting to gain possession of their weapons which were still strapped to the bikes. They had left the saddles and hit the lalang with astonishing speed. First a hand would appear, I would line up my sights, and then a head would come into view to be sprayed with a short burst. I sent several tin hats flying in this manner, then a Jap gunner opened up on my position and I tried to smoke him out, too. Six Japs were under my position on the bank and Jack Dean, 9 Sec Tommy gunner, picked them off very smartly. I saw a movement in the ditch under Jack and put a burst into the area, then everything seemed to be silent. Joe and Ted had disappeared, and Jimmy was screaming out to me to hurry. I shoved my wallet inside my shirt front, picked up gun and magazine box and struggled out through the monkey vines, past a litter of discarded equipment in Company H.Q., and onto a small track where the rest of the platoon were crouching in cover. Ted took the mags and I put my equipment on properly, then struggled towards the head of the column whence came cries of "Bren gun to the front!", and the staccato rattle of many automatics. I halted for a short while where the wounded were being treated - Ray Brown was unrecognisable, with blood and bandages. Harry Head was in a state of collapse with a bullet in the knee and shrapnel in the ankle. Ken Dale was peppered with small wounds, Laurie Drayton was shot through the arm and Tige had a smashed leg. I found that I had lost my pipe, tobacco, matches, paybook and knife, as my shirt was hanging out and they had slipped clean through.

Captain Duffy came up to lead us out, and we followed him over a huge log and along another track until suddenly we received the order "About turn and move into the jungle on the left". We were ambushed in turn and suffered more casualties: bullets struck the trees about us as we formed a small perimeter and prepared to sell our lives dearly. Captain Duffy ordered "Lie doggo until dark, then we will move round their flank", so we refrained from uselessly returning the enemy's fire. We could hear their voices and the rattle of bolts as they reloaded, and also the thud of axes in the distance, probably preparations for repairing the bridge. One voice we heard crying "Forward, forward! ", but no movement eventuated. It was probably a ruse to draw fire. There were only about 3 dozen with our party, and we feared for the safety of comrades we could not see around us.

It was dark when we finally moved out in single file. When we halted at a small road to reconnoitre we heard Jap voices in the position we had just evacuated. They must have moved in as we moved out. I heard here for the first time, of our first fatal casualty, Athol Nagle, "B" Coy Orderly Room Sergeant, who was killed instantly when shot through the head by a sniper from the treetops. This sniper also wounded Vic Gordon before he was in turn hit and killed.

We were in a precarious position, for our retreat to Battalion along the road was blocked by enemy, who had passed the trap then doubled back. Capt. Duffy had let too many through as he expected the transports, but they never came. Finally, we turned away from the road and followed this new, smaller one in the direction of the railway, passing many dismantled bridges and fallen trees. A huge water buffalo tethered to one of these put the wind up some of the boys in the now intense darkness. Then lights appeared on the right and we heard Chinese voices. Two of these woodcutters eventually agreed to guide us to the railway line and we struck into the jungle on the worst trip on the worst trip I had experienced in my life. At the head of the column was an electric torch to facilitate progress, at the rear we were encumbered with wounded, Bren guns, darkness, and the inevitable lag experienced in a file of men. Time and time again, the cry went up: "Halt in front, lost behind! ", as someone would lose hold of his neighbour's bayonet scabbard. I finally removed my rear carrying handle as it caught too often in the vines and thorn bushes. I was full of thorns for weeks afterwards. Sgt. McLean was with us and he had a terrible job keeping us in touch with the front, as the going was steep and treacherous. When we halted to allow stragglers to catch up, I would sink to the ground and sleep. I was trodden on often, before I awoke to struggle on again. Jack Blackstock collapsed and fell down a hole. He wanted us to go on and leave him, but he was dragged out and assisted to the front. The wounded also were sent forward, and this helped to speed us up. Then a "feeler" was sent down the line - would we move on all night, or sleep and continue in the morning? Finally, we were ordered to get what sleep we could, each alternate man keeping watch. Promptly, everyone went to sleep and no watch was kept; it was nearly dawn, anyway.

When it grew light I found that I had slept on a 45 degree slope, jammed under a tree trunk, while a good level possie was available beside me! We heard someone slashing their way towards us in the rear, and safety catches clicked off and grenades were produced. But it was one of the Chinese woodcutters; he was lucky that we saw him in the light. Bill Delaney gave me a packet of "Pirates", as I had no weed at all, and we filled our bottles at a creek and chlorinated them. Then we moved on about 200 yards, and reached the edge of the jungle. I shook hands with the two Chinese before climbing through the fence into the rubber. I hope the Japs never caught them.

In the rosy glow of morning we could now take stock of our party, as we occupied a rubber-covered hill in perimeter defence. From Coy H.Q. we had Capts. Duffy and Kearney, W.O. Gordon, L/Cpl Streatfield, Ptes. Douglas, Cowan, Webster and McWilliams, as well as Lt. Makepeace (R.A.A.) and his batman, and two sappers from the 2/10 R.A.E. From 10 Platoon we had Ptes. Buckingham, Hall, Meadows, Bennett, Forbes and Smith. From 11 Platoon we had Sgt. Garner, Cpl. Paget, Ptes. Hanlon, Rope (?), Egan, Jones, Delaney, Hann, Blackstock, Blackadder and Bahnson, and from 12 Platoon we had Sgt. McLean, Cpl. Yates, Ptes. Gill, Hodges, Gottaas, Waterson, Noble, Wilson, Smith and myself. "Spud" Gordon had a bullet in the leg, as had Stan Waterson and Red Hanlon. Eck Gottaas had a piece of shrapnel in the face, Fred had some in the leg and Paget's face had several bullet wounds. Lt. Makepeace had a lucky escape - a bullet passed through his mouth, smashing several teeth.

Ted had lost the case of mags in the jungle and was too exhausted to help carry the gun, even. Tom Yates had lost his tin hat. He said he felt very insecure without it. I opened a tin of Bully but he and I could not eat it and no-one else could, either. Nerves, I suppose. We heard the opening shots of the main show here, also the sound of Jap transport on the road. The bridge had been repaired in quick time as the artillery received no word from us and consequently did not register as previously planned. Our position was ascertained on the map, and a patrol sent out to contact Battalion and lead us in. This patrol, Sgt. Don Garner and Ptes. Noble and Hann, disappeared completely. When they had not shown up some hours later, we decided to move without them. 12 Platoon survivors formed the point section as we moved cautiously through the rubber, then swung left to follow the railway line. Tamils clustered in excited groups around a dhobie line and we froze as aircraft roared overhead to attack the Battalion positions, the thud of bombs and the rattle of automatics growing closer as we progressed. We could hear artillery in action in front, and the Arty. officer declared that he recognised the "double bang" of his 25 pounders. He went forward but could not contact them, luckily for him, as they were actually Jap heavy mortars. Ray Streatfield did a good job here, as with map and compass he reconnoitred our proposed route and told us when to advance. We were drinking water from rubber cups and creeks now, no time for hygiene measures, and I used to dip up a tin hat full and drink on the move. Late in the afternoon Ray came back with distressing news - the Battalion had withdrawn and the Japs were in occupation of the position. We halted near a small palm plantation and held a council of war. Nearby, the thunderous reports of the mortars sounded as they pounded the battalion withdrawal, and Captain Duffy hinted that "two men with a Bren could creep in and silence them" - (no volunteers, however!)

Paget and his section had been chased in from the flank by a shower of bullets when investigating the sound of transport, so our position was precarious. Finally the order was given: " Over the railway line ", and we plunged through waist-high bracken to the embankment, and mounted it. I had a funny feeling in the small of the back as I crossed the rails in full view of the enemy, but our luck held and we were apparently not observed. We entered the jungle on the other side and moved along a handy path running parallel with the line. The pace was fast and furious, despite the hampering vines. When we were opposite the previous left flank of the Battalion, we emerged once more and mounted on the actual embankment in a hurried dash for safety. Smoke was billowing from many points in the position (action had ceased by now) but again we and again we had phenomenal luck, and our long-drawn-out single file was unmolested, if not unseen. The wounded and Bren gunners naturally lagged here, Stan Waterson had a tough time, and Jimmy Webster stayed back to help him along. Around several bends, then we ducked into the lalang for a breather. Many men were discarding their surplus gear. Harry shed his equipment but was prevailed upon to carry his rifle. Then we started off again, seeing no signs of friend or enemy, till nearly to Gemas, when we turned into the rubber on the right, moving about half a mile before halting to rest and re-organise. As darkness fell, we moved into the jungle towards the town, and I began to feel the reaction of the past 24 hours. "Legs" Hall helped me with the gun and I took out, smashed and discarded two magazines, even that being a help. While resting in an "anti-malaria" gully, we were startled by several loud explosions. It was the 2/15 commencing their all-night shoot on the sidings, town, etc. We finally came out on Gemas golf course and moved to the clubhouse, past many stacks of sleepers arranged to prevent aircraft from landing. The clubhouse was deserted, and yielded a few bottles of soft drink only. "Legs" secured an A.R.P. warden's tin hat, however. We settled down in perimeter, most men falling asleep immediately. Finally, we were shaken into wakefulness and moved to the other side of the course, just in time for shells struck the house later in the night. They fell all around us as we dozed, shrapnel and nose caps whizzing everywhere. Many were duds, one such rolling into our circle from further up the slope.

We were awakened and moved into the jungle just before dawn on 16/1/42, a sorry-looking bunch indeed. For hours we struggled through the jungle, crossing precarious log bridges and wading through swamps, until finally we reached rubber again. Paget went forward with a small party to a boong house and returned laden with Indian "issue" biscuits and hot, sweet tea. We moved in, a few at a time, to partake of these, 2 or 3 biscuits and a mouthful of tea each. Coconuts were being slaughtered when, suddenly, we froze. Aircraft were rushing towards us at tree top level. We shouted with joy as they flashed over us. Brewster Buffaloes, their .5 machine guns crackling, and Bristol Blenheims, diving in to attack a Jap convoy in Gemas. Much heartened, we resumed our journey through a patch of pineapple (many casualties recorded) and into hilly rubber country. It was hard going, up and down the slippery slopes in extended formation. Finally we struck a road and straddled it to move to the right. Then suddenly the roar of engines and rattle of trucks were heard around the bend. We dived for cover, hastily lined up Brens and groped for grenades, and into sight came two carriers with the familiar "23" emblazoned on them, the most welcome sight we could have seen in years. Everyone was laughing and trying to talk at once - we had been given up for lost, naturally. Finally the wounded (and others) clambered onto the carriers and moved off. The rest, myself included, marched on with Capt. Kearney. I had put the gun on a carrier, so had an easy journey into Fort Rose, the new Battalion position. Black Jack greeted us on arrival, and complimented us on the show. "B" Coy 2/26 Bn had sent over their midday meal, but we could not eat the appetising roast meat and beans although hot, sweet tea was appreciated. I pinched a tin of milk off a truck and sucked it dry, the first time I realised how delicious it could be.

Air alarms sent us to cover several times, as our aerial superiority of the morning had ceased and Jap planes flew over us with impunity. They never located us, but bombed and machine-gunned our reinforcements on their way up. We heard the details of the previous day's engagement, the news that the remainder of "B" Coy had arrived back without loss being the first item sought. Apparently, they had been hampered by the wounded, could not keep up, and took the wrong track. When they realized the position, they decided to rest for the night and accordingly settled down, to be alarmed by the howls of a large monkey all night. In the morning, the fringe of the jungle was reached, and they deployed into the rubber, encountering 3 Jap L.M.G.'s and "doing them over" on the way. The open patch before the Battalion position was crossed to the cries of "Don't shoot! B Company coming in! " and without casualties, but 6 men were missing on the left flank - Fred Collett (Bren), Kiwi Bland (Tommy gun), Smiler Mulligan, Joe Cochrane, Jacko Sams and Terry Trevor. Months were to pass before we heard their fate. "B" Coy was fed (a slice of bread and an apricot each) then moved into "Don" Coy's position when "Don" Coy moved out on their bayonet charge.

The planes were active and caused some casualties, none fatal, however. Tanks attacked "C" Coy. and Freddy Brieze fired 27 rounds from his .55 Boyes anti-tank rifle. He was deaf for a long while afterwards. Lt. Clements was killed here by the tanks. 14 successes were claimed over them by the 4th A/Tk not confirmed however. Our mortars had a good day and broke up Jap concentrations continuously, unluckily they lost every "gun" in the withdrawal, having to dump them in the Gemas River along with other war stores. Capt. Taylor did a wonderful job, working coolly under fire with the padre, and thoroughly deserving his subsequent M.C.

"Don" Coy suffered in the attack, Les Webster from Sydney Steel being amongst the M.B.K. Capt. Melville, their O.C., was shot through the face (and later invalided home) "B" Coy had been abandoned as the last news was that the enemy were in sight then the sig wires were cut and the next news was that "C" Coy was attacked. The whole operation was a success, for the unit had withstood the attacks of 2 Jap brigades (one armoured), inflicted severe losses and retired in good order with few casualties. We were glad that we had trained hard now; Black Jack's iron discipline stood us in good stead.

We rejoined our platoons, and were warmly greeted. The wounded were packed off straight away; even the slightest wound sufficing. Tige had gone the day before - Lofty Ferry carrying him in all the way. He deserved a decoration for that. Jimmy Cooper (Bn Sigs.) was our new Platoon Commander, and our possie was on a hill top overlooking a road junction. Jack Dean had been with 8 Section (I had the Bren away) and now returned to 9. Darcy and Bluey McDonald were astray somewhere, they were S.B.'s attached to Bn H.Q. Sam Watts showed me his rifle - he was taking a sight when a bullet hit the knox form (?) - close shave!

I walked down to the stream and had a good wash, then scrounged new clothes at a 2/26 Bn Pl dump nearby. The trousers were too short and the socks too small but mine were filthy with jungle slime. I got my blistered feet attended to at the R.A.P. - Jimmy Parsons, Fitzy and the padre were there, asleep on their feet. They had lost all their gear the day before and had few stores. On my way back I was presented with a bucketful of tinned fish, meat, milk, etc., so filled my pockets, luckily.
After getting a blanket, ground sheet etc. from the dump, I moved with the platoon to another position, on another hill, where we saw our reo's move in in single file. After dark we were shifted again, and took up a possie on a steep slope for the night. Here the platoon was reinforced, 8 Sect. receiving Sailor Weir, Bunny Billsborough and Charlie Coggins, the two latter being QX's, as were the majority of the new men.

All night the artillery of each side waged a duel, the whispering of the Jap mortars overhead being most ominous. Then, at dawn 17/1/42, we returned to our hill top and drowsed away the morning after a hard ration meal. Sailor gave us cigarettes and told us of the commando force that he had accompanied. They ambushed the Jap and caused a fair bit of damage before retiring to the coast and their vessels.

After dinner, we were detailed to patrol as far as the 2/26 position, so moved down to Coy H.Q. Here we saw Horny Hann in an exhausted condition. He had been separated from Joe and Don Garner, and captured by the Japs. Friendly Tamils aided his escape and he entered our lines disguised as a Tamil woman with a bundle on his head. Nearly got shot, too, as the boys were getting 5th column conscious.

We moved out on patrol after stripping some gear. I carried only 3 mags, as it was not anticipated that more might be needed. Gilbert was in charge of 7 Sec. and explored a dhoby line on our right. The Tamil occupants were herded back to Battalion, Harry Wilson being one of the guards. We reached our objective, an anti-tank gun post covering a level crossing, and moved back along the railway line. Over the line, on the left, some "Indians" were sighted and 8 Sec crossed over, covered by my Bren, but the "Indians" had fled. Then we heard the thud of mortars and the rattle of automatics from the post we had just left. We should have gone back to Battalion, but turned and moved toward the sound of action. Jimmy influenced Cooper to do this - as he passed me he said, "We will see some action now! ". We halted, deployed in the gully just before the position, and Jimmy, Russ and Ted moved forward to gain information. They had no sooner disappeared over the rise than we heard the "tap! tap! " of mortars being fired. We crouched apprehensively behind cover as they burst where the boys had moved over. I felt sick with foreboding, and my fears were realised soon, for Russ came running wildly back and exclaimed, "They've got Jimmy! ". A bomb had burst between the three of them and he had copped the only fragment, in the head. They dragged him into the anti-tank slit trenches and he died without regaining consciousness. I felt as if my guts had been kicked in - Jimmy was one of the cleanest, best blokes I ever knew. Volunteers were called to go and bring his body in, but we were stopped. We were in a state of indecision, did not know whether to attack or not as it was actually 2/26 responsibility. Then the gun crew retired on our right and we lined up to advance on the position. We had moved a hundred yards, then had to dive for cover as our 25 pounders ranged on the target. I did not know whether to carry the gun in or sling it and fire from the hip. I had no proper sling. Then we turned once more and retired to a line on the next ridge. Through the rubber on our left we could see hurried movement, probably part of the 2/26. Anyway, Sipper hurried them along with a snap shot. Sailor Weir had disappeared, and Russ and Sip were nearly killed while searching for him in front. The mortars were still active. Merv Dixon received a large dint in his tin hat from a fragment. Neill Huntley joined us here, with a small patrol. We got in touch with Capt. Swartz, O.C. "B" Coy 2/26, and he helpfully said: "You re-take the position, and we will consolidate for you! ". We lined up again, (this was worse than the actual assault), then retired once more. Finally, at dark, we received orders to rejoin the Company. Just in time, for we could hear Jap transport moving up and were settling down to sell our lines dearly. The anti-tank crew told us that the Japs sneaked the mortar up behind a boong hut, moving in on bicycles disguised as Tamils. They must have been there when we visited the post, and waited till we moved on before attacking. They smashed the anti-tank gun and fired the truck with mortars, then opened on the crew, and killed Jimmy when he appeared. I hope he got decent burial - he was left in a pit with all identification discs, pay book, etc. still on him.

Russ had been unanimously elected Section leader and led us as we hurried back to the Company. We found our gear in the dark and reassembled it in a flurry of excitement; the Battalion had withdrawn and a couple of carriers were the only support we had. I grabbed Jimmy's ground sheet and was turning to go when I saw Sailor's gear, so went through it and secured his cigarettes. He was either dead or "shot through", I argued. In any case he would not be back that way. Later I found out that his haversack contained $100 - the Japs spent that for him!

We raced up the narrow red dirt road through thick rubber, being directed by scouts later picked up on the carriers. Thirst grew on us, and we seized rubber cups from the nearest trees and drank them "en route". God knows how many wogs we drank in the dark! We passed an area that had been pounded by mortars. The stench, of H.E. and smashed rubber, remains the most vivid in my experiences. We turned into a patch of young rubber and collapsed to rest amongst the rows of undergrowth. Had a smoke under a groundsheet and slept fitfully until mortars crashed in the vicinity once more, then moved on to a new possie near a small creek. Here we filled our water bottles, posted sentries, and, heads pillowed in tin hats, we fell fast asleep in action positions, ready to wake and fight on immediately.

Before dawn on 18/1/42 we moved again, mortars being active again, as soon as light showed. We were cheered to see a rearguard of 2/29 - one company only (Don) was here however. The rest were at Muar. There was even talk of leave in Singapore as we moved back along the right-hand side of the line, then over the embankment. A Buffalo had been stunting over us for some time but now he was gone, shot down, and two Jap dive bombers cruised around, looking for trouble. In the intervals when they were away we moved across the railway line and road into a stretch of young rubber, then we were stuck there for the rest of the morning. One bomber was always in the vicinity, engaged in strafing an Indian anti-tank gun post towards Batu Enam, and it was hours before they both disappeared. I opened a tin of fish, Japanese mackerel, it was, and really enjoyed a meal, the first for days. We realised why we were halted here when an Indian came dashing up and informed us that we were in their minefield. An unfortunate D.R. rode over a mine in our vicinity. The "boom! " as he went up alarmed us all. Fortunately he was not killed. Eventually, we were conducted through the defences by a round-about route, passing cleverly concealed dug-outs and O.P.'s manned by Indian troops. A truck had received a bomb on its bonnet from the Jap planes. I found out later that it was Don Wilk's vehicle (2/10 Field Ambulance).

We moved along the road in aircraft formation, past many bomb craters, to within a quarter of a mile of Batu Enam, then turned left down a dirt road just where some rolling stock had jumped the rails. Capt. Duffy had gone on ahead to arrange tucker, etc. Capt. Jones was in charge and the guides to direct us (Legs was one) fell asleep, so we got lost for the rest of the day. We passed the other Companies of the Battalion and still plugged on for miles. My feet gave me hell, and the gun bore heavily on my shoulders as I tailed the field, stopping now and then for a tin hat full of water from a ditch. The boys killed a large black cobra in the road ahead. Sipper had scrounged a push-bike and offered to let me ride, but it would not have worked. He would have had to walk and carry the gun instead of me.

We reached a huge rubber estate (Dunlop - Perdriau) where the young rubber stretched for miles, traversed part of it, then halted at cross roads on the fringe of heavy rubber. My feet were in a terrible state by now. Horrie Neill gave me some fresh socks and foot powder, and we ate some bully and biscuits. Equipment lay around the position, valises etc. from the 2/26. We did not know why it had been abandoned, but took up a perimeter defence. Then, armoured cars appeared and told us that the enemy were in the vicinity. Later we received orders to move back to the Battalion. I scrounged a ride on an armoured car, sitting up like Jacky in the turret as we lumbered along the narrow and gravelled roads. Practically all the mob got a lift in eventually.

At the rendezvous was a good meal - roast meat, tinned potatoes, bread, jam and tea, eaten with fingers as we had no utensils. Letters came up, too, but none for me. Groundsheets were issued, and in the semi-darkness we moved across the road, over a single-plank bridge (guided by a sig. wire), and into a very close perimeter. We were told that we could sleep all night - guards were few and we would have only about 15 minutes duty each. Imagine our feelings when we were awakened before the first guards had done their stretch and told to prepare for a forced march to Segamat. I said: "My feet are done. I cannot walk. Can I get transport? " and was told "There is no transport - you will have to walk! " and I did! At 10 pm we crossed the narrow bridge again (Sam Watts fell off it!) and raced up the road towards Batu Enam. I could not keep up and carry the gun, so the rest of the Section took turn about.

We reached the level crossing at Batu Enam then turned left onto the permanent way, two files, one each side of the single track, past silent stores and rolling stock. Miles passed at a fair pace. My feet grew used to the constant pain, but stiffened up and caused agony after each halt. Eventually, we reached a level crossing where transport still moved and a heavy calibre gun lit the sky with each explosion. Just past the crossing we halted and slept for a while. The steel rail was my pillow, and a comfortable one, too. Before moving on, we were told that a bridge had to be crossed, that it was mined, and not to touch any wires. WE had crossed several small bridges but this was a larger one over the Muar River. It was nervous work, as the sleepers were widely spaced and a false step could mean a broken leg or worse. We were blind with fatigue and could not judge our steps too well. A sleeper had only to be a quarter of an inch lower than expected, and it seemed like a foot! The clanging of a tin hat into the river below advertised an accident. Harry Wilson had stumbled and nearly went with it, but Horrie Neill helped him along.

Halfway across, a black hand shot out as we passed and guided us onto some planks, an Indian sapper on the job. We were glad to be off the structure and onto the permanent way again. Then light and noise were apparent on our left, where the road ran parallel with the line. A convoy of armoured Marmions was lined up to receive us. Their headlights were on and everyone was laughing and smoking, quite a contrast to the darkness and silence we had been used to. We clambered aboard and dozed as they rattled their way through Segamat and on into the rubber beyond. Some loose planks in a bridge, that rattled like mortars as we passed over, alarmed us. Our nerves were still on edge. Then we halted at a cross roads, tumbled off into the undergrowth of a rubber plantation, and fell fast asleep, completely done-in.

Daylight woke us on 19/1/42 and we stirred, cramped but rested. The R.A.P. was established just over the road so I hobbled across for treatment, waiting my turn in a large queue. Capt. Taylor looked at my feet, then said "I will have to send you down the line for a couple of days" So I handed in my name and prepared to leave. I dumped the gun with Ted and took his rifle, said "So long! " to the boys, and jumped into the waiting ambulance. We handed in all the water bottles, tucker, etc., as they would be taken from us eventually. Black Jack waved good-bye with a big grin on his face as we moved off. "Good luck, boys! ", he said. Doug Chambers was unlucky - he was rotten with ring worm but had to stay. We were dropped off at 2/9 M.D.S. a couple of miles down the road. The drivers told us of Jap planes machine-gunning their ambulances. Here we were relieved of rifle, equipment, ammunition, grenades, etc. as they could not be carried in ambulances, and we waited for transport to the C.C.S. at Kluang. Bill Walmsley (M.A.C. - from Belmore Day Boys) was our driver and I sat in front with him, telling him news of the action and of the boys that he remembered. He gave me cigarettes; I had run out long ago. We passed Labis, bombed and smoking, and had a scare, leaving the vehicle, at a palm plantation when a large bomber passed overhead with rear guns crackling. His bombs fell a short way up the road, where a J.M.F. convoy was halted, riddled with shrapnel and covered with red dirt. The drivers were just re-appearing as we drove past. We had no spotter with us, but relied on other vehicles to warn us. When they pulled into cover, so did we.

Engineers were mining all bridges and embankments as far as Yong Peng. The Muar landing had upset all our strategy and we had to withdraw. Yong Peng was burnt out. It was a good target being a vital cross roads, as was Ayer Hitam. WE turned left at Ayer Hitam and reached Kluang late in the afternoon. It seemed peaceful and far from war to us. There was no room in the C.C.S. for us, so we backed out and moved south towards Rengam. Our route lay alongside the railway line. When we reached Rengam we turned into an Indian C.C.S. and disembarked. We were not expected and it was some time before we were installed on stretchers in temporary quarters. The place was full of wounded Indians. A long line of stretchers led to the door of the operating theatre where the doctors toiled unceasingly. WE got a feed after dark: meat, vegetables and gravy, bread, and hot, sweet tea. And was it sweet! We had not eaten since the night previous, and with the relaxing of nervous tension our appetites were re-established and asserted themselves once more. Cigarettes were also issued, and we lay back and yarned with the orderlies, telling them that the Jap was a walk-over. Ron Stokes (Bn Sigs) and Jimmy Wilmot (A Coy) were with us here and Dave Jordan came in a later ambulance.

We were not allowed to rest long, however, for a convoy was leaving for J.B. that night and we were on it. We packed into the ambulance again, all walking cases, and dozed fitfully as the convoy crawled south. As we approached Singapore, a rosy glow became apparent in the sky, the oil tanks afire at the naval base, turning night into day. Our ambulance turned in at the 13th A.G.H. at Tampoy, and we hobbled in to be admitted by drowsy orderlies. I had a touch of tinea as well as septic feet, so was conducted to the skin ward and given pyjamas, mosquito net, etc. After a cold shower (at 3 a.m.) and a cup of tea we fell into the cool sheets and remembered no more.

It was good to sleep in in the morning. When we made our beds it was broad daylight and breakfast was brought to us. The hospital was located in the former lunatic asylum. It was a large establishment with many concrete buildings connected by covered pathways, and surrounding it was a high iron fence. Atap huts were in course of construction (the Chinese worked on these right to the last), huge red crosses adorned all roofs. This was wise, for soon we saw the danger. At 10 a.m. that morning (and every other morning) the usual 27 bombers appeared and flew serenely over us on their way to Singapore. Their fighter escort was invisible, although sometimes we did see the vapour trails that they left. A.A. bursts formed a huge black path in their wake, but did not trouble them much. We were told of a huge dog fight over J.B. a week previously, when 105 planes took part, ours being outnumbered and driven from the sky. The burning oil tanks made a huge black serpent of smoke in the sky; it was days before they were under control.

Harry Wilson, Sailor Weir and Horny Hann joined us. Horny was asked to write an account of his experiences for Intelligence. We were questioned too, about the Jap and his equipment. Joe Noble and Don Garner had turned up, in Brigade, but Darcy and Bluey were still missing. I wrote a letter home. It was a rather rambling and disjointed missive. I handed it to the padre to censor. My clothes were handed in to the dhobies. Later, when I applied for them, they were still away. I never got them back. The canteen was out of bounds to us, but we managed to buy several bottles of beer each night. There, we received news of the Muar battle, and also of our casualties in the show at Ayer Hitam, where L/Cpls. George Phelps and Wally Pont were killed. Days were spent in relaxation, reading or playing cards. We made the most of it, as we realised that soon we would be "for it" again. The tucker was good and plentiful, bread and condensed milk being a favourite dish. My sores healed up bar one on the right heel, and on 23/1/42 I was drafted to Con Depot. The previous night we had a gramophone recital in the ward, and when leaving, the nurses could not do enough for us. Merv George and Paddy Cloherty were still in the ward when I left. They were later boarded.

We had an impromptu meal in a marquee tent before leaving, each man cutting his own bread and opening his own tins of salmon, fruit, jam, milk, etc. Then we sallied forth to the waiting ambulances. I had on a pair of blue silk shorts, a pyjama coat, tin hat and wooden clogs, and carried all other worldly possessions in a dry-ration bag - razor, comb, jack-knife, wallet and field dressing. The convoy rolled down to J.B. and over the causeway, where we saw the engineers preparing for its eventual destruction, then by a round-about route to the Island Golf Club where Con Depot was newly established. On the highest point of the course we erected our marquee tent and installed iron bedsteads, mattresses, etc. Serious cases were installed in the clubhouse, and Q staff and kitchen occupied the dhoby lines. G.B.D. was in the rubber at our rear, and the road to it led past our tent. The transports wound over the luxurious greens, soon destroying their beauty. An A.A. Battery was installed on a neighbouring hill top. (Later on, it received a direct hit, we were told.) Fred Hodges, Bert Higgins and 2/29 and 2/26 reps. shared our tent. Harry Wilson, Dave Jordan and Mick Murray shared another one. I got some clothes here - shirt, shorts, socks, boots, mosquito net, blanket, etc. Tucker was light. We all had voracious appetites and clamoured for more. Beer was issued several times. Some of the boys bought it from passing trucks at $1 a bottle. The same entertainment was on at 10 each morning, but we could see it better from here, as well as the clouds of smoke and debris as they unloaded their eggs on Seletar Aerodrome or the Naval Docks. Shrapnel fell in our area, but no casualties were recorded. Hurricanes flew around the sky in small batches but never attempted to molest the formation; they had orders to avoid action and preserve their planes. One night we were treated to a brilliant fireworks display, half a dozen Bofors A.A. converging on a lone raider with fiery red tracer shells. A glow on the ground later showed where the victim fell.

We had a scare one day when a rifle shot rang out in the direction of G.B.D. It was Norm Buckley, drunk as an owl. He fell on his bed, raised his rifle, and shot himself in the foot! Harry Wilson formed one of a party that "went through" to the U.J. and had a good booze up before catching a taxi home. Dave Jordan and I resolved to emulate him. We thumbed a lift along Thomson Rd., then another down Lornie Rd. to the big British camp. They said they were dry, so we got another couple of lifts back to Braddel Rd., met Jimmy Wilmot and some others, and found another camp and canteen. The huge building was packed tight with Pommy reinforcements. It was a battle to get to the bar, but the "Tiger" was worth it. Dave and I struck up a conversation with a sergeant and, finally (very merry) decided to stay the night. We slept on charpoys in one of the many huts and woke at dawn to the blistering abuse of a Pommy R.S.M. as he harangued his men. We hitch-hiked back to our tent, arriving as the sun came up. A very good night; finance prevented me from repeating it, in this camp, anyway.

On 29/1/42, the Con Depot was shifted once more, to Mount Rosie. In a drizzle of rain we piled into trucks and were conveyed to our new quarters, tents pitched amidst palatial houses where the better class of Singapore had resided. I installed my gear in one tent (4 men to each) and walked out to view my surroundings. A chap from the 2/19th, named Ronnie, said to me: "I wonder how far it is to town? " so I said "Wait a minute ", went and got my helmet, and away we sailed. We walked down Chancery Lane to Bukit Timah Rd., and thumbed a lift to Jalan Besar. Sirens sounded and our driver would not continue, so we got out to walk. As we clattered along the silent streets (Singapore was like a dead city), an excited Chinese A.R.P. warden tried to shepherd us into a shelter, with no success. We reached the U.J. and gained admittance to the bar, filled with a motley, perspiring crowd. Beer flowed freely. The only trouble was that, on an alarm, the Chinese staff would close the bar and turn out the lights. We overcame this by buying plenty of beer, and condescended to put on our hats when the alarm sounded. I met Otto Woods here, very drunk. He had seen Billy off to Sumatra that night, he told me. I also met Cpl. Bruce Stokes, from Lakemba. He was stationed at G.B.D. and had charge of a truck. The truck was outside and, after a good session, we went out and slept in it for the rest of the night.

The next morning, 30/1/42, we shaved at the U.J., breakfasted on eggs and rolls, and hung around till the bar opened at 2 p.m. Beer was short for some reason, small consignments arriving in the bar at irregular intervals. We chummed up with some Malay Volunteer sergeants and bit them for about $15. A chap from the 2/18th turned up and joined us. His name was Charlie, and he was a Sydney barrister in civil life. He and Ronnie set off home at about 5 o'clock, the blind leading the blind, and Bruce and I went around to the Anzac Club for a feed. The Club was shut, so we moved on to the Rex Hotel but could not get served. Bruce got obstreperous; he would salute all of the bigwigs in the Rex before I could get him out. Then he got homesick and cried like a baby. I got him back to the U.J. Our truck was gone, so I secured beds, saw him safely installed, and bedded down myself.

The next day, 31/1/42, we did much the same in the morning, and got a good start on the beer after dinner. We were pretty well tanked when we left, intending to return to camp. Charlie had rejoined us - he had lost Ronnie, and slept all night in an archway. Anyway, we bought 10 bottles of beer and went along to the Solar Café for a feed. The Chinese would not serve us at first, but some Manchesters prevailed on him to do so, and we drank all our beer with our meal and went back for more. Survivors from the "Repulse" were in possession of the U.J. They wanted to sell us a huge naval bayonet-cutlass affair. I saw Capt. Pride and L/Cpl. McKenzie (B1), but they never saw me. We struck up an acquaintance with a R.A. gunner and saw him off to Blakang Mati. I don't know whether he got there as his navigation was wonky. We bought some beer and two bottles of whiskey with the balance of our money, and set off down Bukit Timah Rd., getting a lift as far as the roundabout near Serangoon Rd., then casting about for a place to drink the grog, as our ways parted there. Finally, we sat down up a narrow laneway and polished it all off, rendering the "Volga Boatman", I remember, to help some heavily-laden ants up a wall. Were we happy!

Then a Dutchman appeared. We engaged him in conversation, and finally he sent his son home to bring back beer, which he did, likewise a bottle of Bols orange gin and half a bottle of French wine. We stood in a circle toasting "Holland forever!" "The East Indies forever!" and "Singapore will never fall!" till this supply was exhausted also.

It came on to rain, so he took us to his brother-in-law's house till the shower passed (his own had been demolished by a bomb), then we parted company with mutual esteem. I remember hitch-hiking in a daze along Bukit Timah Rd., half carrying Charlie up Chancery Lane, then chasing Lofty Ferry around Mt Rosie with my tin hat, reiterating solemnly "I met a Dutchman!" "I met a Dutchman!" The boys dragged off my wet clothes and tossed me into bed. No good, however, for I got out as often as they put me in. Finally, I slept in the rain all night and awoke to the best hangover of my career. I could get no relief, could not eat for two days, and finally sweated the liquor out by sitting in the sun all day, drinking hot tea. Tommy Evans and Sailor Weir went into town a few days later and came back in a like state, sick and sorry.

Lofty Ambrose was with us, a broken man. He collapsed when he heard of Jimmy's death, and desired only to be boarded home. Joe McManus was employed in the cookhouse. Jack McLean was with us, too, and also Dutchie Hollands, badly shell-shocked. He ran away whenever planes approached, as did Sailor Weir. I saw a plane hit while here. It fell out of formation, leaving a cloud of white vapour. We received a pay, $5, which was spent on "Magnolia" ice cream. Lofty Ferry ate sixteen 10-cent buckets, then bought a $1 bucket and ate that. Tom and I enjoyed one, buckshee. I reported the loss of my pay book while here. Mac told us of Black Jack and his Jap sword. Capt. Melville took it with him on 9/2/42 when the hospital ship, bearing surgical cases, left.

On 5/2/42 I was drafted to G.B.D. with Jack McLean, Tom Evans, Lofty and Doug Chambers. We were lucky to arrive safely as our driver was quite mad. He tangled with 3 vehicles on the road there. Our new quarters were situated in the rubber to the east of the junction of Thomson and naval Roads, near a huge dump of aviation fuel, millions of gallons stored in under the trees (later fired). Gordon Preen was the Q.M. The other boys, Harry Wilson and Fred Hodges, ad gone back to the unit that morning. Lts. Rooke and McLean were the reinforcement officers, Ernie Renike a batman, Maj. Lloyd (not 2/29th) was O.C. and was an old nuisance - he tried to teach us veterans our fire orders and wanted to put us on the miniature range. No go, however. I was made a Lewis gunner. The gun they produced was on the wonky side but I had to carry it on paratroop patrol the next morning. We got new rifles, but the only equipment was old type - I swapped a cook to get the Bren type. We had no eating utensils, and none were in the store, so had to eat with jam tins, knife blades and fingers The tucker was good - porridge for breakfast with bread, butter and jam. For dinner and tea we generally had bully beef stew with tinned peas, spuds, carrots, onions, etc., bread, jam, cheese and tea. We did weapon training, in our own manner, all day. Then, desiring liquid refreshment, I volunteered to guide the boys to the Pommy canteen. Accordingly Gordon, Tom and myself set out through the rubber to Thomson Rd., then hitch-hiked to the canteen. We drank two bottles each, loaded up with 3 or 4 more, and returned early to polish them off in Gordon's tent. In the morning, 6/2/42, young Veech (A Coy) produced a bottle, which we shared before going over to the golf links on patrol. It was a life saver. We took up a possie there, about 100 yards from the site of our old tent, remained till the sun was well up, then came back for breakfast. Gilbert turned up this day - his nerves were bad. Mail was in for some men but none for me. It was probably chasing me up the mainland. We ordered some beer, but could get only one bottle, so that night we set out again, Tom, Gordon, Doug Chambers and myself. We did the same as previously, but had trouble in getting back as no lifts were available. Braddel Rd was lit by the most vivid display of fireflies that I ever saw; they flashed on and off in the trees while over all hung the black pall of smoke from the Naval Base. We eventually got a lift in, in a Marmion, and each had a bottle for the morning, this time.

We were paraded to the R.A.P. early, and certified fit for action (7/2/42). Lofty and Gilbert stayed behind. Lofty wrote a note for Arnie and I took it with me. We were messed around all morning and moved up to the petrol dump for dinner, bully beef stew, bread, butter and jam, and was it good! Then we embussed. Cpl Johnson, C Coy., was spotter, and away we went down to Bukit Timah Rd., out past the village, the Ford works and Bukit Panjang, till we turned in at Mandai Rd and debussed in a hurry to the tune of an air alarm. There, Lt. Hislop and W.O. Purdon picked us up (Hislop had just been hit in the forehead by a shell fragment), and we were led into the Battalion position by compass bearing. It was funny when the first shell fell in our vicinity, all the new men fell on their faces and only the two leaders judged the sound rightly. We passed through B.H.Q. and were directed to Company H.Q. We were warned not to show ourselves, as the Japs had a balloon up. We met W.O. Smythe en route, a huge revolver strapped to his waist. (His commission came through that day, and he was killed that night.)

Company H.Q. was in a small house with a huge dugout alongside it. 5000 sandbags were said to have gone into its construction, plus many tightly-jammed railway sleepers. A protective platoon had been formed in each Company to protect Company H.Q. It was mainly composed of reinforcements. Men had been drawn from the Companies to man Vickers M.M.G.'s on the waterfront, Bill Smith and Ray Albury being some of those so detailed. Black Jack was in Con Depot as his ears had broken down, and Lt. Col. Ramsey was C.O. Don Garner told us of a 60 lb shell that he dug out in front of his pit, and we resolved to dig deep and stay down.

The Battalion was in position on the causeway, "A" Coy near the actual crossing and "B" Coy facing a swamp to the left of the position. 2/26th was half a mile across with no one in the gap. 12 Platoon was in position above a crossroads, and thither we were conducted, to be warmly greeted by our cobbers.

A camouflaged screen covered the crossroads from view, our wire was over the road, and we sat over it in a row of slit trenches if action commenced, but during the day we occupied shelter pits under trees further back. Harry Holden had been acting Platoon sergeant but now moved to the Company Protective Platoon, and Mac took his place. Many changes were apparent in the Platoon. I found that Ted Gill had been killed in tragic circumstances two nights previously, and was buried at Reformatory Rd. Frank and Charlie had the gun. Frank stayed on as my no. 2 and I gave him the brand new 1941 rifle I had brought back for Ted. Darcy and Bluey had turned up, after being adrift for days after Gemas. Tiny Hicks was in hospital with malaria, and 8 Sec had reinforcements in Bert Wills (QX), Snowy Moller (Mob Bath), Alec McGregor and Jack Beehan. Jimmy Cooper had gone back to the Sigs. and we had a choice specimen from "C" Coy as Platoon commander - Lt. Dengate. He wanted to throw out our trusted N.C.O.'s and put in Jack Beehan, Dud Bushby and McGregor "because he knew them". The boys told him otherwise in no uncertain manner.

Continued Book 6

(Source: John Holland - Diary transcript sent to 2/30 Battalion AIF Association on 6/7/2008)

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