February 1942 to June 1944

CHAPTER I

PAROLE IN PEKING

War at this early stage had brought little change to Peking. The Japanese, hastily donning their laurel wreaths, and not yet decided upon the correct angle at which they should be worn, had made few changes. After the initial excitement had died down, the private lives of the British and American community were little disturbed. Banks and business houses had been temporarily closed and were later taken over, but the majority of the people had managed to remain in their own homes and enjoyed complete freedom within the city.

The Committee of the Peking International Club, pre-dominantly British, resigned and was replaced by an Axis Committee, but the "enemy aliens", as we were dubbed, continued to enjoy the privileges of the Club. Sunday morning would find the glassed-in verandah packed with members ; on one side a table occupied by Germans, on another a Japanese banker and his family, and nearby a party of British and Americans. There were Russians, French and Italians, not to mention what was known as the "rocking-chair fleet", composed of that hardy perennial, the American service widow in the Far East, of which Peking was never without its quota. Life for the "enemy aliens" continued on a fairly normal scale. Money was short but somehow there were still parties; vodka took the place of gin; Chinese cooks economised and served three courses instead of five ; rickshaws and bicycles took the place of cars. Occasionally someone's house would be occupied by the Japanese, which necessitated some reshuffling

But gradually people felt the pinch and funds began to run low. A Relief Committee was formed and funds were made available by the British and American Governments through the office of the Swiss Representative, who had been appointed to look after their interests. The Committee soon became the Lord High Executioners, sitting in judgment on the private lives of the community. Theirs was the prerogative to grant or withhold relief. Those who had no alternative went on the dole and their mode of living became just another topic of conversation for the "rocking-chair fleet" — there was Fifi, for instance, on the dole and feeding six Pekinese dogs; Mrs. Z--- who was suspected of secret drinking; and Mrs. X— who was selling her gold dollar cheques to the French Bank and indulging her penchant for antique watches. Well, why not? It was merely a loan from the government! Others took it more seriously, sold their silver, curios, fur coats, and even took in paying guests before they went on relief. As time went on life reached an even keel and pay-day at the Wagons-Lits Hotel saw dowagers and dope addicts, missionaries and alcoholics elbowing their way in the queue to the pay-desk and the scrutinising eye of Billy Christian, who was Chairman of the Committee. Completely in his element, he got the " low-down " on them all ; gave close personal attention to the special cases, such as the Russian wives of the American service men who had been interned in Shanghai, and of course G--, who was always anxious to redeem a portion of her loan. Over all this presided the benevolent Dr. Hoeppli who, guided by Billy and Neville McBain, ministered to the personal problems of the British and American community? By profession an enthusiastic bacteriologist and formerly with the Peking Union Medical College, he found some difficulty in reorientating his outlook to deal with the prevailing specimens.

In the early summer H―, manager of one of the American banks, disappeared; he was well into the Western Hills before he was missed. This caused no little consternation between the Japanese Embassy and the Secret Police, who each considered the other responsible for allowing H― to get away. No less indignant were certain members of the British and American community, who felt that their personal liberty, the existing even tenor of their lives, might be considerably ruffled. The "rocking-chair fleet» cleared decks for action: "How utterly selfish . . .", ”My dear, he only did it because . . .", "But imagine, the leading American banker with so little sense of responsibility to the community". These people and others seemed to have forgotten that they had ignored the repeated warnings of their Consuls to leave China, and deserved little consideration from those who had stayed at the request of their various business organisations.

The Committee worked hard with the Japanese, and it was eventually decided that "enemy aliens" must wear red arm-bands bearing Chinese characters symbolising their respective nationalities. They also insisted that there be a system of guarantee against further similar escapades, and the community was divided into groups in accordance with residential districts, and each district again divided into sections of ten individuals. In each group one person was held responsible for the proper conduct of the remaining nine. This was a relic of the "Pao Chia", or "Home Protection", system introduced during the early part of the Sung dynasty by one of the then Secretaries of State. Instigated for the purpose of tightening the control of the people in an effort to increase revenue collections, it was revived and much used by the Japanese during their occupation of China in an attempt to control and prevent the anti-Japanese activities of the Chinese.

Within a few weeks life had settled down again. Although arm-bands restricted one's activities, they were at the same time a badge of respect amongst the Chinese. Sometimes the shops would give one special 'special prices, occasionally a rickshaw man would refuse to take his fare, in restaurants one would be greeted with the thumbs-up sign by the waiters. People attached to the bigger institutions such as the oil companies, the banks, or the tobacco company, were better off than those of the smaller firms. These larger concerns were taken over by the Japanese immediately, and some of the staff retained for the purpose of being available to answer queries when necessary. In some cases, as in that of our Company, we were forced to take part in the actual running of our business for several months. We received a monthly salary of five hundred local dollars, which just kept us off relief. But in a few months we had gradually faded out of the picture, except for Billy Christian, who was called upon every now and again to untangle the reins, or to give advice, upon which our Japanese successors seldom acted.

By midsummer, life had again returned to a pleasing tempo; we were still free to move about the city. At the Club there was tennis and swimming, a drink and perhaps a light lunch under the striped sun-umbrellas round the open-air swimming-pool. In the evenings a walk in the park, dinner and bridge at a friend's house. Helen Burton of the "Camel Bell", so well known to globe-trotters for her exquisite" things Chinese " and her unbounded hospitality, often had breakfast parties on the "Pei Hai", or Northern Sea Lake, where one could embark in a punt and drift amongst water-lilies still studded with sparkling morning dew. Here, in the heart of Peking, was another world where time lingered, reluctant to leave the willow-fringed lake and the pine-covered hills, the pagodas and palaces and the elaborate tea pavilions, suave in the knowledge of their perfection from centuries of contemplation in the mirror of the lake : a world of picture gardens, of Emperors and Empresses ; the State barge drifting over the lake ; the music of lutes ; the court ladies in their flowing robes of soft pastel shades, in pleasing contrast to the crude and brilliant colours of the ornate pavilions ; the extravagant theatrical performances that took place in the open-air theatre. Sometimes we would climb the Hill of the White Dagoba and breakfast with the whole of Peking spread before us; the lakes of the Southern Sea, the Middle Sea and the Northern Sea ; to the south-east the golden-tiled roofs of the Forbidden City nestling amongst the green tree-tops, and, far to the south, the three-tiered azure roof of the Temple of Heaven.

As the summer passed the Japanese relaxed; there had been no more escapes from Peking to the west, and the war was going well from their point of view. So, occasionally, we were able to obtain special passes to visit the Western Hills some twenty miles north-west of Peking, or the Imperial Hunting Park, the Temple of the Black Dragon Pool or the Summer Palace, and Sundays would he spent in walking over the hills, visiting temples and having picnic lunches.

The price for these delightful excursions, and for that matter practically any other social activity outside one's home, was the probability and doubtful pleasure of Suzuki's company. During the past half-year he had been studying English and had made some progress. Sometimes he would turn up at our mess and insist on taking one or two of us out to a cabaret. We would plead lack of funds. "No matter! Suzuki got plenty money." We would suggest that there might be trouble for a red arm-hand wearer seen at a dance hall. "No matter! Suzuki got gun." Giving up the struggle, one of us would go with him. Drinking whisky, beer and vodka, we would go from one dive to another. Usually it ended by our having to pay for the dance tickets and the drinks, but the evening was often quite young when Suzuki, the worse for the mixture of liquor, would gradually lose his enthusiasm, slump in his chair and drop off to sleep. At this point one crept out, hoping to get a rickshaw before he woke up.

One evening Billy Christian and our stenographer (who, incidentally, was at the time teaching Suzuki English) were having a quiet dinner in an inconspicuous corner of the Peking Hotel roof-garden when Suzuki happened to see them. Early as it was, he had already reached the stage of universal love. "Ah! Christian-san, so happy, so happy. We must drink. You, I, my teacher. Boy-san!" Drinks were ordered and repeated. Earl West's band was re-hashing an old number. "Suzuki too drunk dance. Christian-san, you must dance with my teacher." Billy explained that he could not dance with his red arm-band on, but Suzuki, intent on everyone having a good time, insisted, and finally producing his pistol, forced the issue. "If you no dance, Suzuki shoot you." Reluctant to ruin his sharkskin dinner-jacket, Billy had a most enjoyable evening. By the time the dance finished Suzuki had departed to spread a little sunshine elsewhere.

From time to time there had been rumours of repatriation and of concentration camps. Early in the spring the Americans had packed and were on the point of leaving, when word came that the ship had been postponed. A month, two months, and it was forgotten. In August a few British left for Shanghai to join a repatriation ship, but that was as far as many of them got and, unable to return to Peking, they had to live under much less pleasant conditions in Shanghai. In the middle of winter a Dutchman and a Frenchman disappeared from Peking, but there was little said about it by the Japanese, and there were no repercussions. Other people were thinking about escape, and here and there it would be the subject of idle talk. After the New Year, the rumours of internment became more frequent and convincing. Enemy aliens were already being concentrated in Shanghai. In Chefoo they had been confined to a mission compound and in Tsingtao they had already been concentrated for a year. This halcyon existence in Peking could not continue in-definitely.

Christian and I had discussed the possibilities of getting away to West China, as almost everyone else had from time to time, but with the situation deteriorating as it was, we decided that it was time to make plans. We felt confident that if we could make the right connection with the Communists who were, even at that time, surrounding Peking, there would be little difficulty in getting away. There were certain foreigners in Peking who, amongst the few, were known to have such connections and we approached a friend in one of the American missions. After some persuasion he agreed to introduce us to a certain Mr. Wang, a Communist agent living in the city with his wife, under cover of an embroidery business.

On the appointed evening the watchman had been told that we were expecting a seller of embroidery and to be sure to admit him. Soon after seven he arrived — a short, grey-haired little man, dressed in western clothes and carrying a bundle wrapped in blue cloth. While the servant was handing round Chinese tea and passing cigarettes, Mr. Wang untied his bundle and spread out a selection of beautiful embroidered table-linen for our inspection, and when the servant left the room we were haggling over prices in the approved manner.

As the door closed Wang turned to us and said he had little time and suggested that we got down to business. We told him that the concentration of the British and Americans was almost a certainty in a matter of weeks. We wished to contact the Chinese troops in the vicinity of Peking, and, with their assistance, make our way overland to West China. Would he put us in touch with the right people? He spoke briefly and to the point, and told us that primarily they were interested in getting in touch with foreigners who would remain in their area and assist them in their war effort against the Japanese. They needed engineers, electricians, doctors and teachers, but, of course, we were all allies and naturally they would do what they could to help us. He promised to get in touch with their Foreign Relations section to see what could be done, and arranged to send a man to see us within three days.

Christian and I were not the only people interested in making plans for escape ; we were fortunate in interesting an American doctor, formerly attached to the Peking Union Medical College ; a very well-known professor from Yenching University, who was already acquainted with the Reds, and had previously received an invitation to assist them in their educational work ; Arthur Hummel, a young American attached to the Fu Jen Catholic University as an English teacher, and another young teacher from Yenching University, These additions made rather a large party, but both Christian and I felt that the Communists would not be particularly interested to go out of their way to help a couple of capitalistic business men alone.

On the second day after Mr. Wang's visit, I received a telephone call to say that a Mr. Yu would like to call at seven on the following evening. At the appointed time he arrived. Tall for a Chinese and aged about thirty, he spoke quite good English. Once again while the boy was passing tea and cigarettes we talked of business, the weather and other trivial matters. The boy then left and Mr. Yu, in a manner which undoubtedly would have qualified him for the secret service, got up and, tiptoeing to the door, opened it to see that no one was outside listening; he then opened the windows leading to the verandah and, finally convinced there were no eavesdroppers, got down to business.

He told us that the matter of our escape had been mentioned to the various responsible parties, who agreed that plans should be made to assist our group, and he had been put in charge of arrangements within the city. He had had experience and had been directly responsible for H―'s get-away, a perfectly executed escape, and although the party involved on this occasion was large and conditions more difficult, he felt sure that it could be arranged successfully. There was a good deal of melodramatic talk involving motor-cars, signals and a secret rendezvous. We discussed the various members of the party and went to considerable lengths to convince him of each person's particular ability. He was already acquainted with the Yenching professor and was particularly interested in the doctor, whom we considered to be our star drawing card. The conversation then turned to the possibility of obtaining medical supplies and ANT promised to get together a selection of sulpha-drugs and other items of which they were particularly in need. It was agreed that we should have the medicine, together with any items of personal clothing and toilet articles that we might require, ready within a couple of days, and he in turn would arrange to have them smuggled out of the city to the Western Hills. From there they would be forwarded to an advanced base where we would be able to pick there up.

The next two days were spent in making the necessary preparations. We estimated that it would take us from six to eight weeks to reach Sian in the province of Shensi, from where we could fly to Chungking, depending, of course, upon what Japanese activities we met en route. We would have to walk practically all the way, so prepared strong shoes and thick woollen socks, jodhpurs and khaki shirts, woollen sweaters, a raincoat and toilet articles. We each made a donation to the doctor to purchase what medicine he could not otherwise lay his hands on. In no time we had filled a good-sized canvas grip.

Mr. Yu's next visit was a short one. He told us that arrangements were being made for a detachment to meet us in the hills and to escort us to the Communist advance head-quarters, but they had not yet been completed. Stressing that the concentration announcement was imminent and we would have to leave within a week, I arranged to deliver our personal effects to him the following evening. He told us of a certain street corner where, at a given time, lie would be riding past on a bicycle and be followed by an empty rickshaw, which I was to call and place the baggage in.

The appointed time found me walking down the street followed by the rickshaw. As I stopped to light a cigarette I noticed a bicycle followed by a rickshaw approaching, so I immediately started an argument with my boy and, roundly cursing him, signalled to the one following the bicycle and transferred my baggage. I followed it down the street for a hundred yards or so and, at a convenient turning, slipped up a narrow- lane and went home.

Within a few days the Japanese announced that all enemy aliens would, for their own protection, be transported to the Civilian Assembly Centre at Weihsien, a small provincial town in the middle of Shantung province. The Americans would be the first party to leave on the 14th of March, followed by the British on the 29th. This announcement brought consternation to all. Many had realised that sooner or later it was inevitable, others had scoffed at the idea, pointing to the freedom of Japanese citizens in England and America, but for all there followed a frantic ten days.

What should one take? The Japanese Embassy issued a prospectus which read more like the advertisement for a summer camp than for an internment centre. We learned that there would be ample food provided, fresh vegetables and fruit in season, including strawberries; there was a dairy and milk would be supplied to the children, nursing mothers and the aged. Accommodation was spacious, but we were advised to take bed and bedding and eating utensils. Small supplies of additional food could also be taken. Recreation facilities were provided and one should take tennis rackets, balls, etc. There would be conducted walks in the country and to the town for shopping, but a canteen would also be established within the Assembly Centre at which purchases of daily necessities could be made. Cameras and radio sets were prohibited. One gramophone could be taken for every twenty guests. Fortunately for the peace of the camp, most of the gramophones had already been sold. One bottle of alcohol could be taken for medicinal purposes only.

This did not fool the Committee, who passed around a list of suggested articles that should be taken. They included mosquito nets, tin plates and mugs in preference to porcelain, tin jerries, carpentering tools, wire, nails and screws, cooking utensils, books, writing paper and typewriters, medical supplies, toys for the children, warm clothing and footwear, soap, and if there was any room left in one's regulation two trunks and bedding crate, then fill up with food. Everyone went on a wild orgy of purchasing, the favourite market-place being the second-hand stalls near the Temple of Heaven.

To all this excitement and speculation as to what would be the most useful articles to take, we, who expected to leave for the Western Hills any day, had to show the interest and reaction expected, but although we had to make some pre-text of preparing for the camp, we did as little as possible. Christian, as Chairman of the Committee, had become so involved in the business of the coming internment that he decided he could not now very well escape, and after some deliberation, reluctantly gave up the idea. With the issuing of the concentration order, all passes were suspended, extra guards patrolled the city walls and additional sentries were placed at all the city gates.

A few days later we got in touch with Mr. Yu again. He admitted that the situation had changed to such an extent that it would be difficult to get us out of the city, but he was working on a plan and would communicate with us again. Four days passed and there was still no news. We were really beginning to lose hope, as only five days remained before the American party was due to leave. At last he promised to call at the mess in two days' time at nine in the morning. On the appointed day the others came over for breakfast ; by half-past nine he had not appeared ; ten o'clock, and still no sign of him ; at ten-thirty we decided to face the facts, and dispersed to make last-minute purchases and preparations for camp, which up to now we had been so confident of avoiding. We were all very depressed ; we discussed the possibility of climbing the city wall at night and making our way to the hills, but decided that without a reliable guide it would be too risky an undertaking for a party as large as ours.

The heavy baggage was collected; there were a few fare-well parties. The Japanese had ordered that all houses be left with furniture and fittings intact, but most people, with the aid of Chinese or neutral friends, were able to dispose of most of their cherished personal belongings, exchanging their beautiful antique Chinese furniture and rugs, and other household effects, for the cheapest and crudest that could be obtained. The houses of friends became packed to over-flowing with furniture, curios and books. By the time the Japanese were ready to check the inventories of the vacated houses, the Chinese servants had managed to get away with the few remaining items of value. The balance was auctioned at ridiculously cheap prices to the Japanese civilian residents of Peking

I spent the last evening prior to the Americans' departure in helping friends to make a few last-minute purchases, sitting on over-stuffed suitcases and tying a piece of string here, a rope there. Food had to be prepared for the journey; a thermos of coffee and a flask of brandy. While all this was going on, friends were coming in and out, wishing god speed, and usually leaving a farewell gift of food or clothing. The suitcase would have to be opened and the gift squeezed in, sat upon and coerced into closing, more ropes and more string; drinks and a picnic meal on the floor. Last-minute preparations went on late into the night. The sole consolation people had was that most of their friends would be going with them.

Shortly after noon the next day the American party began to assemble with their hand luggage in the grounds of the American Embassy. As they arrived at the entrance in rickshaws, willing hands helped them with their baggage. Billy Christian was in charge of the whole party, which was divided into groups of about twenty, each under a "group captain". By two o'clock all had arrived and were waiting in their assigned groups for baggage inspection.

It was not long before the Military Police commenced to search the baggage and, picking on a poor old missionary in Christian's group, turned her suitcases upside-down and scattered the contents on the ground. Before they had reached Billy, they treated two others in a similar manner. When it came to his turn, he refused to open his bags and a hot argument ensued. Fortunately a secretary from the Japanese Embassy was nearby, to whom he protested, pointing out that the Committee had been told the arrangements were in the hands of the Consular Police. After no little pother, it was agreed that the Military Police should cease their activities, and the Consular Police completed the job in a very cursory manner. At three o'clock the groups were given the signal to get into line, two abreast, and be ready to march off to the station, each person carrying his own baggage.

The Chief of the Consular Police preceded the party, which was headed by Billy, a knapsack on his back and a grip in each hand. He was followed by a group of men and women, old and young, from all walks of life, laden with knapsacks, suitcases, grips, thermos bottles slung over their shoulders, and packages of food tied to their suitcases. Many were old and the pace had to be slow. One or two small children were carried; others clutched their mothers' skirts, and some held on to the suitcases. The route to the station, which was about half a mile, was lined with friends, and with the curious. Many of the British had come to bid farewell to their American friends and to see for themselves what they would have to go through within the next fortnight. There were Russians, French and Chinese, and as they passed the French hospital, the nuns, who were lined up on the pavement, waved and shouted encouragement.

After the first couple of hundred yards the party stopped for a rest already quite a few were feeling the strain. As they passed out of the Legation Quarter a Chinese rushed from the crowd and thrust a huge bunch of red roses into Billy's hands, a parting gift from one of his girl friends. This rather relieved the situation. The Consular Police immediately gave chase, but the Chinese disappeared into the crowd, and the party came to a stop. Japanese movie operators who had preceded the party continued to take shots. They would no doubt have to do a little editing after this episode! The procession had hardly started to move again before an elderly American fainted under the weight of his baggage; he was removed to the pavement and two policemen stood guard over him, while the rest of the party had to go on. A few more yards and a girl, showing signs of collapse, dropped her bags. One or two of us who had been following, rushed to help her, and to carry her bags. The police objected and attempted to push us off, threatening with their swords, but by now the helping hands were too many for them to cope with and deciding that they had already lost enough face, they hurried the party off to the station. We were not allowed on the platform, but I managed to sneak through to see them off, packed like cattle in third-class coaches. Just before the train left, the passengers were told they would have to change trains at Tientsin and Tsinan. How easy it would have been to have given them a through train to Weihsien!

I still had ten days to find a way out before having to follow my American friends to Weihsien. The next few days were spent in an attempt to get in touch with either Mr. Wang or Mr. Yu, but with no success. It would have been easy to get over certain likely sections of the city wall, but I was stumped for any connections on the other side. The time passed quickly, four more days and we were due to leave. Someone suggested that I should call on a friend of his, a charming old French doctor. This I did. He was a delightful personality, approaching seventy, but brisk and full of energy. He was very popular amongst the Chinese and had a large practice. I explained the situation and he showed consider-able sympathy and understanding, and asked me to return at eleven the next day, when he introduced me to a tall, thin Chinese peasant. This man, he said, would be able to lead me to his summer bungalow in the Western Hills, which was on the border of the Communist district. Every week they visited his house and it was merely a matter of remaining hidden till they came. The question was, how to get out of the city? At night it was essential to have a guide, and the Chinese felt that he was not sufficiently familiar with the country in the immediate vicinity of Peking to undertake the task. There were only two more days left in which to complete arrangements, and the doctor asked me to come round again the following morning.

When I reached his house he told me that he had spent considerable time trying to think of a suitable plan, though it was difficult in the circumstances, especially with the pressing time factor, but he went on to explain that at about eleven that morning he would be leaving the city to visit the Carla Monastery. As he was a French citizen, his car was rarely searched. He would put me in the luggage carrier and lock it. The chauffeur would drop him at the Monastery and then drive on further into the country with the man whom I had met yesterday, and at some quiet spot we could get out of the car and walk to the doctor's summer bungalow, where I would have to remain hidden until the next visit of the communists. He would be leaving in a couple of hours.

My immediate reaction was to accept, then I realised what a great risk this old man was taking for a mere acquaintance over a matter of such little importance. I decided it was hardly fair to ask him to do this. Then again, going out with-out any pre-arranged contacts was rather foolhardy, so I turned the plan down. That evening I had a telephone call from the doctor to congratulate me on our mutual escape. For the first time in months they had insisted upon searching the car at the city gate! After this I decided that I was fated to follow my friends into camp, so now I too had to take the question of packing seriously.

Having watched the Americans leave, some ingenious person had invented a kind of portable trolley. Simple and efficient, it consisted of two long sticks with a small wheel mounted at the apex and a couple of cross-bars that fitted into slots in the handles, keeping it firm and in a fixed position. Attached to the wood were two pieces of rope with which to tie on one's baggage. There was a tremendous demand for them and practically everybody bought one.

On the appointed day the British party assembled in the American Embassy compound. This time the Military Police were absent; there was not a very rigid search of the bag-gage, and much to the amazement of all, we were instructed to load our heavy hand-bags on to trucks. When we left, few had more than one suitcase and a knapsack to carry, and thus, lightly laden, we marched to the station without the attention of the movie cameramen and without any halts.

The train left at about half-past four. We changed at Tientsin and settled down again in the third-class carriage for the night. There was little possibility of comfortable sleep. We ate sandwiches, had a few drinks, and dozed. Some were so exhausted that they stretched out on the floor, amongst baggage and feet. At eight the next morning we arrived at Tsinan, where we again changed trains, glad of the opportunity to get out and stretch our legs. By half-past nine we started on the last lap of the journey. One of the travellers found out that a dining-car had been attached to the train and there was a wild rush. The first fifty arrivals or so got a bottle of beer each, with the surprisingly light casualty list of a couple of sprained ankles, three pairs of damaged spectacles, and one set of broken false teeth. At last we arrived at Weihsien station and were delighted to find some of our American friends on the platform to meet us.

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