Malaya What If

[Fatboy Coxy]

My story will be about whether Britain could have held Malaya/Singapore in 1941-42. There are or have been some storylines that flirt with the question, or paint it with a broad stroke, against a background of a much bigger picture. But I want to write in more detail about how things could have gone

My timeline will begin with some small changes, but without wholesale changes to the general direction of the war. But obviously, as a stone cast in a still pond spreads ripples, so my little changes will undoubtedly bring about changes in future events.

I’ve never written like this before, just posted on forums, or written reports in my real life, and so I wrote privately for myself originally, quite expecting this would just be a fad, a faze I’d quickly grow tired off. But it didn’t, and despite my very slow progress, I found I’ve had fun writing the stories, and want to share them with you.

I’ve struggled with a style, and looking at my stories see different styles, or just as worrying, the same formatted style. I’ve written them with my own enjoyment in mind, and readily concede they are at times very factual, or offer too much detail in the narrative, and may be quite boring, but I like detail. In addition, there are a lot of historical facts, which I hope I’ve got right and a lot of technical, tactical or even strategical points that I’m sure will offer up comment.

I take my hat off to Zheng He, Galveston Bay and Fester to name but three who inspired me to write, and I thank them for the enjoyable hours I’ve spent reading their storylines. If mine could be half as good I’d be happy.

Place names in Malaya and Singapore are historical, as is Burma (Myanmar) and the Dutch East Indies (Indonesia), however, I have used current names when writing about events in Thailand, simply so the reader has a better chance of following the narrative while looking at Google maps. There are a lot of characters, many real, some of whom will find themselves in very different theatres of war, but there are also quite a number of fictional ones too. I hope no one is offended about what happens to the historical people, I have no intention to give offence. Other events are written with a broad stroke of the pen, to give some timeline reference, forgive me if they appear over simplistic

Hopefully I will post a couple of times a week, I’m not a quick writer. I welcome comment and criticism, provided its constructive, and will readily accept the errors I have no doubted made, being pointed out, so without further to do, I will begin.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Monday 05 August;

It was an early morning meeting of the COS, the Chiefs of Staff, with Churchill, in the Cabinet Room, Churchill wanting to be updated before a full War Cabinet meeting later in the morning. It was an intimate affair, just six men around a table that dated back to the last century. Churchill was in the middle, flanked with his chief military assistant, Maj Gen ‘Pug’ Ismay on his right, who was also the secretary of the CoS committee, and Maj Gen Leslie Hollis, the assistant secretary of the CoS committee, but who now did most of that work, on his left. Opposite Churchill sat Admiral Dudley Pound, the First Sea Lord and chairman of the Chiefs of Staff Committee, and on his right was General John Dill, and Air Chief Marshal Cyril Newell on his left.

They were nearing the end of the agenda now, the threat of invasion, with the defence of Britain, and the Atlantic convoys, taking priority, and then the Middle East, finally they had reached the Far East. Closing the Burma Road if only temporary, in response to Japanese aggressive tones hadn’t sat well with the War Cabinet. And the increasing hostility of the Vichy regime, including in Indo-China, had heighten fears for the security of the Far East. The War Cabinet had requested an appreciation of Britain’s security in the area, and Churchill was most anxious to review this before the War Cabinet discussed it.

“OK next on the agenda, COS appreciation of the Far East”, Admiral Pound looked up at Churchill, and continued. “Have you had time to consider our paper Prime Minister?”

Churchill quietly growled “Far East? Yes indeed”. He looked sideways at Ismay, who handed him a sheet of paper. Churchill quickly scanned it, looking for his notes. “Yes, Gentlemen I have read through, and understand the situation. While I’m certain Japan won’t attack, nevertheless she would most certainly make play with these garrisons. I agree the troops in North China will have to be withdrawn, where are they going John?”

“I thought of retaining them in Malaya for now, being as we are so short there, Prime Minister, and it really doesn’t take up too much shipping Prime Minister”.

“For now, John, for now. Pug, make a note, we must write to the Dominions and the President and let them know we are pulling out, Leslie, the British battalions to Malaya on a temporary basis please, as agreed by General Dill”.

Both secretaries scratched down the notes with their ink pens.

“And Hong Kong Prime Minister?” Pound looked side to side at his colleagues, Newell and Dill, expectantly waiting Churchill’s answer.

Churchill leaned forward “Well Hong Kong is another matter, an altogether different affair. We cannot pull out of her, imagine what message that would send to Japan, our Dominions, and the World. People would say we are finished, no, no, NO, quite unacceptable, we simply can’t”.

Pound took a breath, “Prime Minister if Japan attacked the colony, we couldn’t hold it, all would be lost, and it’s too far from Singapore for any supporting Naval Squadron, should we ever find one spare”.

Winston clenched his right hand into a fist and slowly banged out a response. “We cannot, I simply will not, allow us to give up Hong Kong. How would we argue at the victors table for the return of Hong Kong without having made sacrifices in her defence? No, the garrison remains”. He looked slowly at each of the Chiefs in defiance. “Is that quite clear”

Yes, Prime Minister” Pound replied, “crystal clear. Moving onto Malaya and Singapore, and the matter of discussions with the Dutch over mutual defence plans”

Pound swiftly moving on had placated Churchill, and his tone softened, “Yes most certainly, they like us have an Empire to defend, we must work together for mutual support”

Pound continue “we are suggesting the local commanders submit a joint tactical appreciation, based on air power providing the primary defence of Malaya/Singapore”.

“Yes, yes, is that all Dudley” Churchill asked.

“Not quite Prime Minister, we had some other ideas. I was thinking of stopping the transfer of the four R class submarines to the Med, retaining them in the Far East, they would be most useful to us for scouting and information gathering, and somewhat of a deterrent to the Japanese”

“Hmm, Yes Dudley, I quite like the idea with the R class, but just them boats, the rest have to go to the Mediterranean. However, should Japan be so foolish as to enter into War with us, we’ll give her a taste of the U-Boat menace eh!”

Pound pressed on “We need to find a new depot ship for them, we can’t return the Medway, I suggest we requisition a small merchant ship for conversion in Hong Kong”.

“Yes, yes, make so, Leslie, make a note that, Dudley says a small merchant ship” Churchill waved his hand languidly, as a small smile spread across everyone lips, Maj Gen Hollis quietly noted the particulars down.

“Prime Minister, we also think there is value in forming two new Chinese Regiments, one each in Singapore and Hong Kong, and the expansion of the Malay Regiment”. Dill looked at Churchill, and held his breath, they were doing well so far.

“Yes, you can John, but I’ve no idea where you’re going to find the guns to arm them, we need everything we can here”. Winston continued, while finger pointing at Dill. “And mark you, the recruits need to be scrutinised, we don’t want any communist elements introduced!”

“Yes, Prime Minister, we thought they might be armed later, from new Dominion production. We’d also like two auxiliary Pioneer battalions for Malaya, Prime Minister, it means we don’t have to make too greater a demand on local labour”

“Really John, how much more? Very well, but only two, Pug, take a note, I need to persuade India to send a couple of Pioneers battalions to Malaya. Leslie, note that’s accepted. And Cyril, anything from you”? Churchill turned his head towards Air Chief Marshal Newell, making it clear he didn’t want to hear anymore from General Dill on this subject.

Newell leant forward slightly, he had enjoyed the last few minutes rest, having been drained by Churchill’s grilling for nearly an hour over Fighter command then Bomber Command, and lastly defending the need to keep Coastal Command as an RAF responsibility. “Yes, Prime Minister, but not a lot, just re-naming the Volunteers as the Malayan Volunteer Air Force, and requisitioning the local aircraft, and bringing the lot under RAF command. And we have the ongoing construction of some new airfields, both in Singapore and Malaya”.

“Yes, yes, note that down as accepted please Leslie. OK next”! Churchill looked sternly at Pound daring him to bring anything else up on this point of the agenda.

Pound quietly moved on, “next on the agenda is a request from the Falklands Islands ….”

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Friday 06 September;

Vice Admiral Layton sat at his cabin desk, trying to give the appearance of calm, by working through some mundane paperwork, waiting with growing excitement for the call to disembark from the ship, the Viceroy of India, a 20,000-ton passenger liner docked in Singapore. His wife, Eleanor, was in the other room, fussing over the packing of their luggage, doing her best to keep calm as well. The ship had been their home since leaving Liverpool in mid-July, along with numerous other service personnel, their three children left back in the UK in boarding schools.

The ship had sailed independently, relying on her speed to avoid any dangers, but while she was at sea, the German navy had been significantly increasing their threat potential with large surface ships, U-Boats and commerce raiders, meaning that independent sailing would, in the main be coming to an end, as the convoy system took greater control of ship movements across the Atlantic.

The Viceroy of India was only stopping overnight, enough time for the passengers bound for Singapore to get off. Mostly it was newly trained recruits coming out to replace experienced personnel who were either time expired or taking promotions back in the UK. Two days ago, those bound for Malaya had disembarked at Penang. And others would remain onboard, until the ship reached Hong Kong. Then she would retrace her steps back to the UK

Layton was assuming command of the Royal Navy’s China Station from Admiral Sir Percy Noble, not a particularly rewarding appointment, a backwater, which was starved of ships, and he’d be hard pressed to shine here. He knew these waters well, having been a Chief of Staff on the China Station in the early thirties. No doubt he’d meet Percy soon informally, and probable they’d sit down in more formal circumstances next week, as Percy updated him on the situation here. He already knew a bit about the few, old, obsolete, major units here, and the shortages of escorts. What he didn’t know was the acrimonious relationships between the Army and RAF and between the Military and Civilian worlds, something Percy would quickly tell him, and he’d soon see it first-hand for himself.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Sunday 15 September;

He had been there in the bunker since nine-thirty, keen to see for himself the strategic picture, how the RAF was coping in the daily battles with the Luftwaffe. The word had quickly gone around, ‘Churchill’s here’, and aware of how his appearance could cause a distraction, had told everybody not to act any differently for him. Gradually they settled down, the WAAF plotters having little to do, Churchill and his party enjoying a cup of tea and a biscuit up in the Army’s observation gallery. Unbeknown to him, indeed all of them, today the Luftwaffe was staging a couple of major raids, their intelligence suggesting the RAF was near breaking point, one good push would do it.

Built at RAF Uxbridge, the bunker was no 11 Group RAF’s operations room, an essential cog in the Dowding System, the integrated air defence of the United Kingdom. The new, secret radar stations, called AMES (Air Ministry Experimental Stations) located around the entire coastline, together with the Royal Observer Corps, used dedicated telephone lines to report to Fighter Command Headquarters (FCHQ) central filter room at Bentley Priory. This information was then relayed to Group and Sector headquarters, where operators created a map covering their area of operations. Sitting up in the balcony’s, based on what they saw, the Controllers decided on what and how many aircraft to be scrambled, and the sector operation rooms managed the navigation of those aircraft to their targets, usually placing them in an advantageous position. It had been built before the war, was state of the art, and was proving to be very effective.

11am now, and the plotting table was getting busy, large numbers of enemy aircraft detected, forming up across the channel, all the hallmarks of a big raid. There was a quiet buzz about the place, Churchill, looking down, could see the ‘beauty chorus’, the WAAFs, headsets on, busy working across the map, reaching out with their long plotting rods, to push another raid marker forward, or pull one back to update the information on it, number of aircraft, position, height and bearings. It looked like the main raid would be coming up the Thames estuary, and so Douglas Bader and his big wing of 56 fighters were scrambled

Noon, and the main raid was being intercepted, opposing markers being placed on the map, as RAF fighter squadrons made interceptions, braking up formations, shooting down German aircraft, or being shot down themselves. Park had paired up his squadrons, and as each pair engaged, so it stripped away more German fighters, gradually reducing the escort around the bombers, until just as their bombs fell away, Bader’s big wing, hit the bombers and the few remaining escorts hard. It had been a bloody affair, 6 German bombers, 12 fighters and 13 British fighters lost, but more was to come.

1pm, and things had quietened down considerably, the map clearing, and the WAAF girls changed shift. Churchill was delighted, the drama had played out in front of him concluding with a spectacular finish as Bader’s Big Wing’s marker had meet the main raid on the map. Outside, returning German aircraft were landing in France, most of the RAF’s fighters had already landed, and were being refuelled and rearmed.

Just before 2pm, the plotters began filling up the map again, German markers massing over Calais, before turning to Dover. Park scrambled his fighters, again paired squadrons, placing them over Chelmsford, Sheerness, Hornchurch and Kenley, positioned to counter any German move. Crossing the channel, the Germans split into three, and as their size became more apparent, Park reacting by scrambling another four squadrons, then guessing that the forward German markers were fighters conducting sweeps, sent up another eight squadrons, while Group 12 Bader’s Big Wing was also airborne heading for Hornchurch. The British had 276 fighters in the air, the Germans had half as many again, and along with their bombers, more than doubled the RAF’s force.

Now the first engagements began, as interceptions were made, Air Vice Marshal Keith Park, commander of 11 Group, was getting increasingly worried, his squadrons had already been worked hard this morning, and mostly this was fighter verses fighter action, the German bombers being so heavily protected. Churchill asked him how they were doing, Park replied “I have everything up now Prime Minister”,
“What other reserves have we”
“There are none Prime Minister”

A matter-of-fact commentary continued as British markers intercepted, the radio broadcasts of squadron leaders being played out added to the drama.
“Enemy in sight, am engaging”
“Bandits at 10 o’clock, tally ho!”
“Look at the blighters, there’s hundreds of them”

Up in the air, the picture was less clear, other than an almost continuous stream of German aircraft met allied eyes, while the German formations were being intercepted in turn, steadily stripping away the fighter cover, allowing the bombers to be attacked. Bader’s Big Wing turned up, and was bounce from above by Galland’s JG 26. Heavy low cloud cover had been causing the RAF problems with interceptions, but now it saved London, masking the docks and other primary targets. East London was clear, and so 100 bombers dropped 120 tons of high explosive, Bromley-by-Bow gas works was hit hard, as was Upton Park tube station.

The return flight was hard on the bombers, who only suffered a few losses up to now, thanks to fighter cover, but with the German fighter escort engaged, precious fuel used in combat, they had headed back home. A further 50 German Bf109s arrived, the last part of the escort plan, but could only support part of the bombers, others sort out cloud cover, but with many British fighters still airborne, stragglers were picked off with ease.

The long day finally ended, having been bitterly fought, with heavy losses on both sides. The exact figures wouldn’t be known for some time, indeed it would be years before historians pieced together all the information, to come up with the figures of 61 German planes lost, at a cost of 31 RAF fighters. Nevertheless, even given the fact that claims over inflated kills, Churchill and Fighter Command knew they had experienced a very good day, abet a very bloody one.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Tuesday 17 September;

The Morris armoured car crept slowly up the slope until its commander, a sergeant of B Squadron, 11th Hussars, called a halt, just his head and shoulders exposed to the crest of the low hill, the armoured car hull down. The gunner beside him was crouched down behind the Vickers machine gun, the turret rotated to the right, covering the exposed open ground this side of the hill, the blue waters to the Mediterranean Sea glistening beyond. The sergeant put his binoculars up to his eyes and scanned the coastal road which ran in front of him, before having to bend around the hill they were on.

About three miles in front, stood a higher hill, the coastal road again winding around it, and he could see activity on the hill top, Italian infantry digging foxholes, he didn’t think they could do much more, the ground was quite hard and rocky. The small Italian patrol that he’d been following was nearing their line, a quick burst of machine gun fire and it halted, obviously needing to provide some recognitions signal, but it indicated the Italians nervousness.

Several miles beyond the lines lay Sidi Barrani, which the Italians had occupied last night, the retreating Coldstream Guards being careful not to get caught in there. But today, other than the patrol which he’d followed, the Italians weren’t advancing anymore, and had all the appearances of digging in. Scouting reports from his regiment, acting as the British screen, were being confirmed by RAF recon flights. The Coldstream Guards had continued their withdrawal, joining the 7th Armoured Division at Marsa Matruh.

The 10th Italian Army’s advance into Egypt, conducted at a pedestrian 12 miles a day, so the non-motorised units could keep up, had come to a stop. They would now start digging in, creating forts, arcing south and southwest, through Maktila, Tummar, Nibeiwa, and on top of the escarpment at Sofafi, with other Divisions fortifying Buq Buq, Sidi Omar and Halfaya Pass. For now, the threat to the Suez Canal, all that lay east of it had receded.

The Sergeant didn’t really care about that, but it was bloody hot in the armoured car, and he was as dry as a bone. He climbed out of the turret, jumping down onto the stony ground, a small cloud of dust rose around his boots. “Johnny, get a signal off to RHQ, enemy patrol had retired back to Italian lines on coastal road, infantry observed digging in on hill just west of us. Ronnie, take the car back down to the gully and point her west in case we have to make a quick exit, then switch off the engine and get a brew going. Sid, come with me, we’ll belly up to the crest and set up a nice little OP, we could be here for a few hours now I reckon.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Sunday 22 September;

It was early night, the sun well down, but the moon hadn’t risen yet. The big British convoy, HX-72, was plodding its way across the North Atlantic, laden with war material and supplies for Britain, bound for Liverpool, 12 days out of Halifax, Canada. The 43 merchant ships had been escorted by a single AMC, Jervis Bay, up to now, but entering the more dangerous waters of the Western Approaches, an escort of 5 warships would soon take over responsibility for HX-72 on her final days, while Jervis Bay had already turned to attach herself to a westbound convoy.

At last light Saturday 21st September, Kapitänleutnant Gunter Prien in U-47, of Scarpa Flow fame, spotted the convoy, unescorted. She was on weather duty, having used all but one of her torpedoes on other attacks, but still had a decent fuel reserve. She reported contact and shadowed the convoy, while the German U-Boat Command organised a wolf pack. Midnight, Kretschmer in U-99 made contact and promptly attacked, sinking three ships, the last with help from Prien, before a lack of fuel sent her off to Lorient.

The convoy Commodore, Rear Adm Hugh Rogers RN Rtd, had made things as hard as he could, ordering a turn, and as dawn the following morning came up, smoke with another turn in an effort to shake off the U-Boat tail, but failed, another ship being sunk by the newly arrived U-48. Further U-Boats arrived during the day, but so did the Royal Navy escort, the destroyer Shikari, sloop Lowestoft and three Flower class corvettes, Calendula, Heartsease, and La Malouine, causing the U-Boats to draw back.

That night they were back, U-48 damaged another ship, but the escort was doing its job of keeping the wolves at bay. That is apart from U-100, surfaced, Kapitänleutnant Joachim Schepke, standing on the bridge, who risked taking his U-Boat into the convoy itself, angling across the lines of the big merchantmen, crossing first one, and then a second line of ships, his boat’s low profile and a dark night sky making him difficult to see.

Before the moon rose, he attacked, sinking three ships in quick succession, causing panic in the convoy, which began to scatter. Schepke reloaded torpedoes, all the while remaining inside the convoy’s perimeter, outside the escorts frantically searched for him, driving other U-Boats under in the process. Just after midnight Schepke attacked again, another three ships sunk, but was spotted by her fourth target, Harlingen, who avoided the torpedo, and with her stern gun managed to cause some slight damage to U-100, driving her off.

As the convoy broke up, U-100 claimed her seventh ship, but the escorts kept everybody else submerged, and the rest of the convoy was able to escape, reforming the following day, and making port without further loss. The heavy losses were a worry for the British, the Battle of the Atlantic beginning to turn badly against them, but what wasn’t appreciated was the high-risk tactics the German submarine aces were taking to achieve those sinking's.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Wednesday 25 September;

Admiral Layton sat across the conference table, in the naval base, Singapore, to the four submarine Lieutenant Commanders, Moore of Rainbow (which had only arrived yesterday), Browne of Regent, Currie of Regulus, and Marsham of Rover. Sitting either side of the Admiral was his secretary and a new Lt Cmdr. “Gentlemen, I have called you all here today to firstly introduce you to your commanding officer of the newly reformed 4th Submarine Flotilla, and secondly to outline the plan of why you’ve been recalled here and are not in the Med”.

Layton stood up and leaned forward extending a hand towards Browne. “Congratulations Hugh, or should I say Commander Browne on your promotion and posting as commander of the 4th Submarine Flotilla”. Browne awkwardly stumbled to stand, in surprise, and shock the hand, “Thank you sir, thank you, I won’t let you down”

Browne sat back down and Layton continued. “At this point I need to introduce you all to Lt Cmdr Walter Knox, on my left here, who will be replacing Hugh as Regent’s commanding officer”. Nods and smiles all around, Layton continued. “There is some bad news however, all of you are losing your first lieutenants and quite a number of your experienced petty officers and leading men. The Andrew has a growing need and these will be sailing back to the UK to feed those needs. Their loss will be made up by crew promotions and new arrivals straight from training. Hugh you can promote two Lieutenants to acting First Lieutenant and I’ll be giving you another two. I suggest you balance out what’s left of your experienced people among the four boats”.

“Ok, onto the plan, firstly the 4th Submarine Flotilla has been reconstituted to provide the Eastern Fleet with a submarine presence. Currently you have no depot ship, you’ll be given some temporary accommodation, but a 3,000-ton Chinese river boat, the Whang Pu, is about to undergo a conversion in Hong Kong, into a submarine depot ship, with accommodation, torpedo storage, plant for battery recharging and repair workshops, we expect her arrival in Singapore late January, or early February next year.

The Flotilla will maintain one unit patrolling the waters off China with a second unit on stand bye in Hong Kong, all units will rotate through this duty. In addition, units stationed in Singapore will undergo routine maintenance, and provide anti- submarine training for fleet units. Hugh, the first two units to deploy will be in six weeks. Regent and Rainbow in Singapore and Regulus and Rover in Hong Kong until end of June, then changing over until the new year. Our four boats have been reprieved from being redeployed to the Med, not an ideal sea to work in, they were designed for the Far East seas, but if things deteriorate that may change. So, take the opportunities of the ASW training and patrols off the China coast to work your new crews, I want every one of you to be a top line unit, is that clear”. Layton looked around to smiles and nods.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Thursday 26 September;

Maj Gen Takuma Nishimura was angry, the frustration of the last few days had finally broken his calm exterior, nothing his men did could be right. They were too slow, inept, stupid or downright obstructive. But he knew that wasn’t the case, the infantry of the 21st Independent Mixed Brigade had landed on the beaches at Dong Tac and set up a defensive perimeter in good time. The second wave of landing craft had brought a dozen tanks of the 14th Tank Regiment ashore, and with some considerable efforts by tankers, infantry and engineers, had got them off the beach and onto the road. Ten hours later and following a nine-aircraft demonstration from the carrier Hiryu, flying over the port, with an ‘accidental release of a stick of bombs’, Nishimura and his Indo-China Expeditionary Army of 6,000 had seized the port of Haiphong.

But the frustrations stemmed from the previous days. The plan was for them to sail from Hainan Island, as an agreed occupation force, landing on the 22nd. But those bandits of the 5th Infantry Division with that hot head Lt Gen Akito Nakamura commanding, just had to get involved and crossed the border in violation of the agreement. And although the fighting had easily gone Japan’s way, the Admiral of the task force carrying Nishimura’s troops, an insidious man, Vice Adm Takasu Shiro, had refused to let them land, saying he didn’t have permission of the French to do that!

And what had that idiot, General Issaku Nishihara, who was supposedly managing the negotiations done. Nothing! While the Navy laughed behind their backs. And not only that, but having finally landed his men, he then watched incredulously as the Naval Task Force, sailed away leaving them stranded on the beach! Well, he had friends back in Tokyo, and boy was they going to hear about this. Heads would roll, he would insist on that!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Friday 27 September;

Saburo Kurusu, sat back into the high leather cushioned backed chair, allowing the aide to lean forward and carefully roll the blotter over his signature. It was the second signature, a third was still required, bringing the Tripartite Pact into being. Flashlights were popping off as these historical events were being captured for posterity.

He looked briefly to his right, Joachim von Ribbentrop, the German Foreign Minister was just completing his third signature, while the other side of Ribbentrop, Galeazzo Ciano, the Italian Foreign Minister, was waiting to be given his last treaty signature book. He didn’t like Ciano, he wasn’t a diplomat, just a rich playboy in a fancy uniform. It said everything about Italy as far as Saburo was concerned, they weren’t to be trusted. Come to think of it he didn’t like Ribbentrop either, he was arrogance and obnoxious, but he had been of some benefit to Japan, and Germany had to be taken very seriously. The aides rotated round and the third copy was in front of him now. He scanned through the text again.

“The Governments of Japan, Germany, and Italy consider it as the condition precedent of any lasting peace that all nations in the world be given each its own proper place, have decided to stand by and co-operate with one another in their efforts in Greater East Asia and the regions of Europe respectively wherein it is their prime purpose to establish and maintain a new order of things, calculated to promote the mutual prosperity and welfare of the peoples concerned. It is, furthermore, the desire of the three Governments to extend cooperation to nations in other spheres of the world that are inclined to direct their efforts along lines similar to their own for the purpose of realizing their ultimate object, world peace. Accordingly, the Governments of Japan, Germany and Italy have agreed as follows:

ARTICLE 1. Japan recognizes and respects the leadership of Germany and Italy in the establishment of a new order in Europe.

ARTICLE 2. Germany and Italy recognize and respect the leadership of Japan in the establishment of a new order in Greater East Asia.

ARTICLE 3. Japan, Germany, and Italy agree to cooperate in their efforts on aforesaid lines. They further undertake to assist one another with all political, economic and military means if one of the Contracting Powers is attacked by a Power at present not involved in the European War or in the Japanese-Chinese conflict.

ARTICLE 4. With a view to implementing the present pact, joint technical commissions, to be appointed by the respective Governments of Japan, Germany and Italy, will meet without delay.

ARTICLE 5. Japan, Germany and Italy affirm that the above agreement affects in no way the political status existing at present between each of the three Contracting Powers and Soviet Russia.

ARTICLE 6. The present pact shall become valid immediately upon signature and shall remain in force ten years from the date on which it becomes effective. In due time, before the expiration of said term, the High Contracting Parties shall, at the request of any one of them, enter into negotiations for its renewal.

In faith whereof, the undersigned duly authorized by their respective governments have signed this pact and have affixed hereto their signatures.”

Satisfied that all was in order, he leant forward to sign, happy that what was detailed was about as much as he could have hoped for, indeed he thought Japan was rather getting the better out of it. The USA might think twice when dealing with Japan now, and he felt it would help reinforce the isolationist movement there. He looked at his fresh wet inked signature on the page, it was done now, the treaty was signed.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Saturday 28 September;

The truck pulled up at the edge of the parade ground, and the second lieutenant climbed out and walked to the back. “Here we are gentlemen, Roberts barracks, and if you’d like to climb out and follow me, I’ll take you to where you will be staying for the next 17 weeks. Sergeant Billy Dixon, 2nd Battalion East Surrey’s, a 22-year-old regular, and nearly five years in, stiffly climbed out and moved into the shade thrown up by the corner of a building, and swung his kit bag down off his shoulder, his companions doing the same.

In the top pocket of his shirt was the letter informing him of acceptance on an officer training course. He was to present himself to Major Denne of the Officer Cadet Training Unit, Singapore, Monday 30 September. He’d telephoned to accept and the Adjutant had told him he could come earlier and get settled in, ready to start first thing Monday morning. Not wishing to appear anything but eager he’d asked if he could come Saturday, and that had been agreed. When he got to the rail station, he found he wasn’t alone in wanting to get there early, as another eight other lads were waiting.

The officer led them on, Billy’s apprehension was only matched by his thirst, he could murder a cup of char. And it was so much hotter here in Singapore, his battalion had only arrived in August from Shanghai, and he looked forward to getting out of the heat. They entered a brick-built building, into a hallway. The Officer pointed to a chalked board, “Gentlemen welcome to Singapore OCTU. You will be paired off into your quarters, the board will tell you what rooms you are in and what floor they are on, I’ll give you half an hour to settle in, then meet me back here and I’ll walk you around the facilities.

Billy looked on the chalk board for his name. There was 42 of them, three others from his regiment, 3 from the Seaforth’s, who had also arrived from Shanghai, along with someone from just about every other British unit. There were also 6 from the formerly Shanghai Municipal Police and another two from the Hong Kong Police. Billy was paired with a Sergeant Willie Miller, Seaforth Highlanders, who according to the board was already here.

Billy slung his kitbag back onto his shoulder and started to climb the stairs, he was in room 5, first floor. As he climbed so he thought of what his mum and dad back in Croydon would make of him becoming an officer, a smile came to his lips. His company commander and even the Colonel had encouraged him, he was a natural soldier they said, and being able to speak quite a bit of Chinese and Japanese, born from conducting joint patrols in Shanghai, could be advantageous too. His apprehension lifted and he walked with a bit of a swagger, he was going to become an Officer!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Monday 30 September;

Another meeting of the COS, with Churchill, in the Cabinet Room, just the six of them as usual. Churchill was in quite good humour, they had been discussing the efforts of the Army to prepare for an invasion that seem less likely by the day, of ever coming, the exploits of the RAF and the new phase of the battle of Britain, ‘the Blitz’. At sea, the war had been relatively quiet, one of their better weeks.

The First Sea Lord, Admiral Pound was chairing. “Next on the agenda Prime Minister, the Far East. Intelligence reports have been able to confirm the Japanese have moved into Northern Indo-China in some considerable force. Our intelligence has identified the Japanese 5th Infantry Division as being prominent in the initial move, being involved in some minor clashes with French forces. Currently they have troops in the city of Hanoi and the port of Haiphong. Japanese aircraft are basing themselves on surrounding airfields and units on the Imperial Japanese Navy are at anchor in Haiphong. A ceasefire has come into effect and the French have effectively ceded control. As yet no Japanese forces have moved south, they appear to be solely intent on closing the Kunming–Haiphong Railway, the supply route to China. This has to be taken in context with the pressure put on us to close the Burma Road, and concerted effort to cut supplies to China.

General Dill took up the brief. “However Prime Minister, should the Japanese decide to move into Southern Indo-China, and clearly the French are unable to stop them, then the defence of Malaya and the Fortress of Singapore would be severely compromised”. Dill wasn’t making eye contact, aware of what he said next wouldn’t be received well. “Our military forces are very much under strength and plans to address that have recently been thwarted by….”

Churchill exploded, his fist banging down hard on the table, his face flushing deep red. Dammit Dill, I won’t have you undermine me in this fashion. I told you three weeks ago the Australian 7th Infantry Division is needed in the Middle East, that’s where the war is, I’m not having her sit in Malaya dilly dallying about, swilling gin with all them plantation wallah’s. The Japanese wouldn’t dare attack us, with Russia on her northern borders, her troops being swallowed up in China, and the United States wouldn’t just sit by and watch. I’ve spoken to the President and he is working on a raft of economic sanctions to impose on Japan.” Churchill stopped, to catch his breath, his face turning to each of the three Chiefs of Staff in defiance.

Pound replied “Prime Minister, General Dill is merely pointing out that in lieu of the fleet not being able to deploy in Singapore, and there not being enough aircraft currently available to cover that, it all falls on the ground forces to provide a defence. Currently we are extremely weak here.”

Churchill had regained himself somewhat. “Yes Dudley, and did we not discuss just a month ago about some more volunteer forces, and a whole flotilla of submarines I seem to remember.”

“We did Prime Minister, but the new battalions of local troops won’t be ready for many months, and the flotilla is only four submarines”.

Churchill turned to General Dill, satisfied he had won the argument. “John, I understand your concerns, but as you rightly pointed out earlier this morning, we simply can’t strip any troops from Britain’s defences, and we are hard pressed with the Italians moving into Egypt. We’ve already agreed to wait on the joint tactical appreciation from the local commanders. If you can be creative and find forces elsewhere, then I am all ears, Leslie make a note of that please”.

Air Chief Marshal Cyril Newell spoke next, “Thank you for that Prime Minister, we will look at that idea. Another concern we have is the command arrangement we currently have in place; I have had some reports that our strategy of building up our air capabilities in Malaya isn’t getting the full backing”. Dill looked at him, vexed that he should bring this up, half the problem was the local air commander himself. This was Newell looking after his own, but Churchill was already on it.

“Ah yes Cyril, the issues of command, I had a very interesting chat with Governor Shenton Thomas, recently on holiday from Singapore. I’ve decided we need one leader to command both our land and air forces in this theatre, and I’m happy to appoint a commander for this new post, let’s call it Far East Command, as soon as I can identify one. And I think we would all benefit by a change of both Army and RAF commanders as well. And I’m not leaving it there, we’ll have a new Governor, Thomas has served long enough, he won’t be returning, I’ve already spoken to the Colonial Office and I have a man in mind. This joint command will cover Malaya & Singapore, Borneo, China and Burma. I will want you to advance some names of who might be appropriate to me, Leslie take a note of that.”

Newell sat there bemused, Dill was the first to react, “Prime Minister, would not Burma be better served under India Command, all her supplies come from there. And what happens to the Royal Navy?”.

“Yes Burma, yes you may be right there, John, hmmm, that might make sense, Leslie, we need to have some discussions with CinC India on this matter, but the Royal Navy will remain separate, as is, I’m quite satisfied with her conduct in these matters”.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Monday 07 October;

It was the first new intake of recruits for the Malay Regiment, 160 men, organised into four training platoons of 40 men. There had been no shortage of volunteers, the Regiment was held in high esteem among the Malay population. To provide the instructors, NCOs from the 1st Bn had been seconded into this, the 3rd (Training) Bn along with some transfers from the Federated Malay States Volunteer Bns. The whole day was given over to registering everyone, and then the paraphernalia of medical checks, haircuts, issuing kit, assigning bunks, which were mostly in tents.

They would have 6 weeks of basic training, working on discipline, drill, rifle practice, fitness and getting use to general army life. This would be followed by a further six weeks of training as infantrymen, in new platoons, as a further intake would be taken on for the basic training. After that they would be sent to one of the First Bn companies, to be integrated, replacing others who were transferred out, or helping form new additional platoons, which would be spun off into new companies, as their numbers increased. A few would be identified as future NCO’s as well as a very few as future Officers, and these would stay for further training.

The camp, was set on the outskirts of Port Dickson, in a former Volunteers summer training camp, which was being greatly expanded. All the assorted buildings required for a barracks had to be built, along with extra buildings, parade and physical training grounds, firing ranges. The Public Works Dept was doing its best but both men and resources were short, so completing buildings was slow but steady. Initially life in the camp was quite primitive, but gradually standards improved. Rail sidings coming off the Port Dickson – Seremban branch line were planned, but as yet resources didn’t allow.

Meanwhile in Hong Kong a similar event was happening as the first 240 new recruits reported for basic training. All these would be going to a newly forming Hong Kong (Chinese) Regiment, but it was recognised that other Army Corps, the Royal Artillery, Royal Engineers, RAOC and RASC would all benefit from Chinese recruits and plans were already being made to extend recruitment for their benefit. Trainers were provided from other units stationed in the colony, and indeed would remain on secondment, or be transferred, when their own units were transferred out of Hong Kong. Just like the Malay Regt, both Officers and NCOs were being provided from a number of sources.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Tuesday 08 October;

“Olive, Olive, I say old girl, do come here, I have some marvelous news for you”. He sat in the shade of a tree, enjoying one of the few dry days for the time of year, a small table in front of him, holding the telegram, he had just been given. Olive walked over from the roses, a big straw hat on, shielding her from the hot afternoon sun, secateurs in hand. “Yes Andrew, what is it, what do you have?” He offered the telegram to her, but she waved the secateurs at him, “No, no you read it to me Andrew darling”.

“It’s from the Colonial Office, how about I tell you we are returning to Singapore”

“Singapore, darling that’s wonderful, but do tell why, what for”

“Shelton is retiring, they want me to take the Governorship”

“I don’t understand Andrew, I thought the Colonial Office had said managing the nationalist movement here was a priority. I mean that’s why we left Hong Kong so early, so what’s changed”

“Please sit down my dear”, he indicated to the chair beside him, and she put the secateurs down, removed her gloves and sat, upright, hands on lap, concerned. He leaned forward and softly spoke “I’m afraid the war might well be coming our way, Japan is getting more and more belligerent, and London is fearful for Singapore. They’re putting a new team together to prepare for any attack, and I’m wanted to govern the Straits Settlements and the States of Malaya”.

“Oh dear, Andrew, war, out here, are you sure?”

“Well, no I wasn’t, but to move me from Ceylon at the moment, suggests London must think things are quite concerning, not blowing my own trumpet Olive old girl, but I do feel quite flattered in some ways. So, Singapore Olive, what do you think”.

“It sounds lovely Andrew, when must we go”

“Ah, here’s the thing my darling, they want me to go almost right away, in a month’s time I believe, and I’m to fly in about the same time as the new Commander in Chief Far East, whoever he is?”

“Goodness Andrew, that’s not a lot of time, what about me, our daughter Joan, and son John”

“You’ll be able to come along a bit later, there’s no need to rush, and we have a month to talk about what Joan and John want to do, where their futures lie”.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Thursday 10 October;

Churchill sat in the red leather chesterfield, cigar in hand, a large brandy on the side table. Dinner was finished, it was time to sound out some ideas with his close friend Brenden Bracken. “It has come to my attention that things are not too good in the Far East. I’ve spoken to Admiral Noble, just back from Singapore, and he paints a very poor picture of affairs there. And he’s not the first I’ve heard from, but the fact he made a point of wanting to meet me about it, only heightened my concerns.

It’s time for a clear out, I’m going to change the lot, it’s simply a mess out there. I’ve spoken to Lloyd in the Colonial office, and he’s already replaced Thomas as Governor. The Civil Government needs a firm hand but with a good understanding of the complexities presented by the numerous small states that make up Malaya, and he thinks we have the right man for that. On the military side, I’ve agreed with the CoS on a unified command structure, the Army and RAF clearly can’t be left to work in harmony together, we need to unify them. The problem is who? I’m not so troubled by the Navy, Layton’s a good man, and they were never a problem anyway.”

“That’s a potential big post to fill Winston, what would their responsibilities be?”

“Singapore and Malaya, Hong Kong, Borneo, but we’ll give Burma back to India to look after. Just the higher direction and control of major military policy and strategy, small staff, as both the Army and RAF will manage their internal affairs. But I need someone to bang heads if needed, and get them working together.”

“So, who do you have in mind Winston, who could we afford to lose out there?”

“Ah so that the devil of it all, who? Newall has suggested bringing Brooke Popham back, do you know him, was Governor of Kenya, he’s been running the Commonwealth Air Training Plan lately”.

“Yes, I have met him a few times, charming man, can get things done, but not going to bash any heads”

“Yes, that’s what I thought, this is just Newall promoting the RAF, he argues as they have the main responsibility of defence, they should have the command, all a bit parochial to my mind, especially as they can’t provide the aircraft required to defend the colony. In fact, Newall himself has become a concern, Beaverbrook is adamant he must go, he simply can’t continue working with him, and so it’s a no to Brooke Popham.

“So, someone from the Army, Winston? A chance for a new star or a shuffle of the pack?”

“Army, yes I think so. So, I thought of one of the older generals, Wilson, Auchinleck, Paget, but anyone decent is needed either here for home defence or in North Africa, and jumping up an unproven commander could give me more problems. No, it has to be someone with some proven experience at a senior level, which rules out the younger ones.”

Now let’s see, Wavell’s out, has to stay in the Middle East, Brooke out, Home Forces, Dill out, who else? Tiny?

“If you’re referring to Ironside, I am reliably informed he has taken himself off to his estates in Norfolk, and there shall he remain”

“Well that really only leaves one other in my mind Winston, Lord Gort”

“Good god man, not him, no never”

“Winston, you’re letting your personal feelings cloud your judgement. Is this about him defying you in France? You know it must have taken him some considerable courage to do that, and what’s more he was right. He’s not going to be a bother to you out there, but if, and I say if, a decision of great magnitude arose, we know he wouldn’t shy away from it”.

“France? no I have never held that against him, and neither have I with Brooke before you say so. But Gort is no great brain, he’s a guardsman, all spit and polish”.

“Come on Winston, you being unfair, granted Tiger’s no Wavell, but he can get on with people, he organises well and will take the right decision regardless, he sounds like just the man you want”

“Well perhaps it will be better sending him rather than any of the others, I just hope we don’t all regret it later”

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, 12 October

It had been shaped over a series of events, all helping to refine Japanese policy towards her nationalistic goals. The Cabinet decision of 26th July 1940, had started it, the decision of the Four Ministers' Conference of 4th September 1940, and the Liaison Conference of 19th September 1940, began to shape it, while the outline of Japanese foreign policy prepared in the Foreign Office on 28th September 1940, the day after the signing of the Tripartite Pact, gave it some solid ground. And then the decisions of the Cabinet meeting of 3rd October 1940, and the "Tentative Plan Towards the Southern Regions" prepared in the Foreign Office on 4th October 1940, formulated it completely.

It was breath-taking, aggressive, imperialistic, and if achieved, would make Japan into a world power. Simplistically, she would take control of the “Southern Region”, or “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere” as she self-styled it, British Far Eastern colonial lands, and the Dutch East Indies. This would be achieved while avoiding war with the USSR and the USA, but should war be unavoidable with the Americans, then the Philippines, Guam and other American possessions would also be occupied. In more detail, the policy was

To place reliance on the Tripartite Pact

Seek a conclusion of a Non-Aggression Pact with the USSR

Reach a successful conclusion to the war in China

Creation of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, including French Indo-China, the Netherlands East Indies, the Straits Settlements, British Malaya, Thailand, the Philippines, British Borneo and Burma

Offer to mediate for settlement of the European War and in return obtain from Great Britain recognition of the Co-Prosperity Sphere

Conclude a Non-Aggression Pact with the United States, whereby the United States would recognize the Co-Prosperity Sphere in return for Japanese respect for the independence of the Philippines.

And to achieve those goals, Japan had to be single purposely committed, there could be no questioning of the goals now, no alternatives, no opposition. As a result, Prime Minister Fumimaro Konoe declared the adoption of the “Imperial Rule Assistance Association”, moving to a one party state, aimed at removing the sectionalism in the politics and economics in the Empire of Japan, in order to maximize the efficiency of Japan's total war effort. They’d already passed the National Mobilization Law, which effectively nationalized strategic industries, the news media, and labour unions. Japan was now clear on what she wanted, committed to her dream, she only had to work out how to get it.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Thursday 17 October;

Dill sat there patiently, quietly rehearsing in his mind what he wanted to say. He’d had quite a good COS meeting so far, they were confident there would be no invasion this year, and despite the massive shortages in arms and equipment, the Army was getting into better shape every day. In Egypt the Italians had surprisingly, having just crossed the border, dug in, showing no real interest in wanting to go any further. And in East Africa they also showed no intent on taking the offensive, content to make small ingresses into British territory and then sit down and fortify.

But the Far East was another matter. If Japan attacked, and that was a big if, but if she did, Hong Kong, Borneo, Malaya and Singapore, and even Burma would collapse like a house of cards. They were so weak everywhere, but Churchill didn’t seem to realise that. Dudley had been quite clear the Navy would not be able to get there for at least six months, and the RAF, which supposedly was to be the defence until they did, wouldn’t be ready for a long time, despite Cyril’s crowing.

Well, the appreciation from the local commanders had been received, and it highlighted how weak they were. They were asking for a lot of aircraft, and until they had them, the Army needed about 40 battalions, along with a considerable sundry of other units to defend with. Dill’s mind was brought sharply round to focus, as he heard Dudley speak.

“Next on the Agenda is the Far East, Prime Minster. Have you had anymore thought to the suggestion that the Americans base a naval squadron in Singapore Prime Minister?”

“Ah yes Dudley, over a series of cables I have made representations to the President over the suggestion of a USN squadron paying a friendly visit to Singapore. The response is very clear, with the elections coming up there will be no talk of US Forces being deployed in any way that could drag the USA into, as he called it, a foreign war. The American public is extremely sensitive to any suggestion of propping up our Empire. The President’s focus is on material aid only, with the intent on supporting the UK. Any defensive measures for Singapore will have to be taken by us alone.”

The room was silent for a moment, as the news sunk in, clear disappointment on Pound’s face. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I received the joint local tactical appreciation from Singapore, and have circulated it, I trust everyone has had time to read and digest it. Singapore was asking for 566 frontline aircraft, but we believe they could manage with a minimum of 336.”

Churchill turned to his right, where Pug Ismay was sitting, and took the offered papers. “Ah yes Dudley, the appreciation, yes I have looked at it. 366 is quite a considerable number of aircraft don’t you think, and over the last few nights the RAF has demonstrated it is incapable of protecting our capital at night, despite being at war of over a year now. More than 2000 casualties on Monday, the biggest raid yet, followed by Tuesday night when London had 900 separate fires, and severe disruption to the rail network”

Churchill was looking at Air Chief Marshal Newall as he spoke, clearly still angry at the inadequacies of London’s AA defence. Dill watched with interest as someone other than himself suffered Churchill ire. Just recently he’d noticed a change in Churchill’s behaviour to Newall, no longer the darling of the Battle of Britain, indeed if the rumours Dill had heard of Newall’s rows with Beaverbrook, he was on borrowed time. “Tell me Cyril, just where do you hope to find these aircraft from” Churchill stared at Newall.

“Well Prime Minister, the fact is we haven’t got much at the moment, however with the reasonable assumption that there is no invasion coming this year, I can release 226 Sqn RAF, equipped with Fairey Battles. For further reinforcements, I would suggest we build up our forces by deploying newly raised Article VX sqns from the British Commonwealth Air Training Plan, with the agreement of the Dominions. For now, we could send further Fairey Battles and some Vildebeest Torpedo aircraft, and then redirect the Brewster Buffalo’s we’ve purchased from the USA to there. We could hope to achieve our target number by possibly end of 41.

We do, however, need to keep developing the infrastructure to allow these aircraft to deploy, and that unfortunately takes considerable time, I hope your satisfied with the planned expansion of airfields, and the accompanying network of radar stations allowing us to maximise their use. We are struggling with airfield construction, lacking the specialist units required for this work, and to provide a radar network ready for the end of 1941, I am having to divert some units promised for other secondary theatres”.

Pound spoke up before Churchill could react “Prime Minister, if I may add, the Naval Staff have given some consideration to forming a FAA Training Wing, based at Singapore, we think it could be useful having a trained pool of aircrew available as replacements to our Eastern Mediterranean squadrons, as well as adding to the defence of the Far East. They could operate in support of the RAF in this theatre if it was so required. HMS Hermes would be able to provide carrier-based training, and the pilots would come from the Dominions, easing our training programme back here in the UK”.

That seemed to placate Churchill, who was clearly ready to jump all over Newall. Now it was Dill’s turn, he leaned forward. “Prime Minister until we have reached the required number of aircraft, it falls on the Army to defend Malaya. They estimate about 40 battalion’s worth of troops. With the planned arrival of two Indian Bde’s, and expansion of local forces we will have about 15 battalions. Longer term we can hope for more troops from India, but that won’t be enough.

As an interim measure could we not ask for the newly raised 8th Australian Division to be moved there, at least as cover until more forces are assembled, they could continue their training there, and they would be closer to the Middle East”.

Dill leaned back; here we go he thought. Churchill looked over his glasses and cleared his throat. “Training John? A temporary move, halfway to North Africa, so to speak. Err yes, I suppose I could ask that of the Australians”.

Dill continued, encouraged now. “Can we ask the Dominions to help out more? Supplies, equipment and particularly construction materials are in short supply. Could they help us raise more local forces where possible, some ECO’s for the new Indian Battalions?”

“Hmm, yes that could help John. I believe we have a conference planned in Singapore to discuss defence issues, with the Americans and Dutch and Australians invited. Invite representatives from the other Dominions. I will speak to their Prime Ministers to encourage their help. You can only expect voluntary help, and it mustn’t detract from our main efforts in Britain’s defence and the Middle East.”

Well, thought Dill, so good, so far, one last bit to debate.
“Prime Minister, we’ve been looking at the situation in Hong Kong again.” A frown formed on Churchill’s face, as Dill continued, “If war does come to the Far East, we couldn’t hope to hold Hong Kong, what we have there would be lost, I’d like to suggest we reduce the garrison to a level able to provide internal security, and able to offer resistance to any Japanese attack on Hong Kong Island itself. We would retain a British battalion, some of the coastal batteries, and with the newly forming Hong Kong Chinese Regt, it would allow us to withdraw a brigade’s worth of troops plus some artillery for Malaya. We would stage the withdrawals gradually, allowing the Chinese Regiment to take on some of the responsibilities as they form”.

Newall remained silent, in part because he had no forces of any consequences and in part to remain out of the firing line. But Pound was quick to follow Dill. “It would be most useful, Prime Minister, I would be able to withdraw some units to Singapore as well. We would still maintain patrols, be able to offer resistance to any attack, but not lose so much”.

Churchill didn’t answer for a moment, in deep thought. “And what British troops would be sacrificed for Hong Kong’s honour gentlemen” he softly asked.

Dill cleared his throat “Hmm, the Royal Scots Prime Minister”

They sat expectantly for several seconds, as Churchill turned the idea’s over in his head. He didn’t like it, but something had to be done. “Very well, Pug, take a note, I shall write to the Dominions requesting their attendance to a Singapore Conference and support with regards to war materials, forming new article XV Sqns in Malaya and the temporary deployment of the 8th Australian in assisting in its defence. With regard to Hong Kong, I accept your proposals, but Leslie, take note, General Dill has chosen the Royal Scots to have the honour of remaining as the garrison’s British battalion”.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Wednesday 06 November

He headed north along the Albany Post Road, mid-morning, the sun was out, the road dry, but he was thankful for his heavy coat and riding gauntlets insulating him from the biting wind coming off the Hudson River. He could see the big house now, coming up on his left, flat roofed, a large fieldstone wing either side, a small columned portico around the middle entrance. Along the roadside, a good dozen parked cars including a couple of New York State Police patrol cars stood, their occupants waiting for his arrival. He was spotted, and immediately doors swung open, as reporters and photographers leaped out, along with a number of state troopers, in their best dressed uniforms despite the November weather.

He slowed his bike, a trooper waving him through, up the drive towards the house, very conscious of his small part in an historical event. As he pulled up outside, the front door opened, and a smartly dressed woman stepped out. “Telegram for the President, Miss Tully, ma’am” he said as he pulled his leather satchel round, opening it and taking out the neatly addressed sealed envelope. “Thank you, Eddie, it’s very cold today don’t you think?”, She signed his receipt book “Sure is ma’am”.

They waited in the big living room, both fireplaces crackling with burning split logs, the President in a big light green and gold armchair, Eleanor, Missy and Stephen seated in the other matching three, all trying hard to maintain an appearance of nonchalance. Grace walked in, “A telegram for you Mr President sir”, playing her part in the little game. “Thank you, Grace”, he carefully opened it, unfolding the page with care, before reading aloud for the benefit of all.

“Franklin D. Roosevelt, President of the United States,
Hyde Park, New York.

Congratulations on your re-election as President of the United States. I know that we are both gratified that so many American citizens participated in the election. I wish you all personal health and happiness. Cordially,

Wendell. L. Willkie,
New York, N.Y.
November 6, 1940”.

He lowered the page, to smiles all round, he’d done it, won an historic third term, he’d been given the mandate to continue the good work, and although many millions of ordinary Americans didn’t appreciate it yet, lead the United States of America into taking the stage as leader of the free world. He wasn’t there yet, a lot of work was still to be done, turning around the isolationist views that had gripped America for years, overcoming the fears of another generation of young men spilling blood on the muddy battlefields of northern France.

A speech had to be made now, for the gathering press outside, and he would remain on song. He would continue to preach the need for a strong defence, building up the Army and Navy along with their air forces, pointing out the massive economic benefits of rearmament, as millions found newly created jobs, lifting them out of the poverty of the 1920s and 30’s. And at the same time doing everything he could to help keep Britain in a war she was so close to losing. War would come to the USA, of that he was certain, he wasn’t clear quite how that path would be taken, nor how long they would be on it, but they were on it now!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Monday 11 November;

As the convoy sailed in from Bombay, so the Singapore Naval Base took control. With only two berths available some ships would have to anchor out in the straits and wait a day or two. And there was a lot of troops to disembark. The three Indian battalions of the 8th Indian Bde, plus its HQ and associated units, the 19th Field Eng Coy, the 5th Aux Bn of the Indian Pioneer Corps (a non-combatant unit of 4 labour companies) and lastly but not least, the 2nd Bn Royal Berkshire Regt. Just like they had done in Egypt, so British battalions were being incorporated into Indian Bdes where possible. The Berkshires would join the 8th Bde, shedding an Indian battalion, which would join Malaya Command un-brigaded.

The 2/10 Baluch were first off, young soldiers heavy with rifles and kitbags staggering down the gangways, being formed up into platoons and then marched to the transport park by a few grizzled professional NCOs, where trucks were waiting to ferry them to temporary accommodation under tents. The second ship began unloading the many stores, supplies and MT vehicles she carried, cranes swaying the cargo up out of her holds onto the dockside where an assortment of wagons, flatbeds, trolleys and labourers ready to manhandle, waited.

Next off were the Berkshires, who were quickly squeezed into the Alexandria Barracks, and then the 3/17 Dogra’s, who were housed in a temporary camp, again under canvas. Lastly came the 2/18 Royal Garhwal Rifles, who having spent the night onboard their troopship, disembarked the next morning, straight onto a train which began the journey north to Kuala Lumpur. The Bde HQ and its associated smaller units were also accommodated in Singapore for now, but also would soon be moving north into Malaya.

With the formation of the 11th Indian HQ in early October to command them, so an initial deployment of two Indian Bde’s, the 6th, which arrived in October, to the North West and the 8th to the North East in Northern Malaya would be complete. This left some Battalions un-brigaded, but they were deployed as garrison troops for now. The 5th Aux Indian Pioneers were being sent to Kuala Lumpur. This wasn’t nearly enough troops to defend Malaya, but it was a start to the troop build-up that had been promised.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Monday 11 November;

Captain Bernhard Rogge of Atlantis, stood on the bridge and watched the merchantman settle down in the water after the scuttling charges blew. The superstructure of the ship displayed the effects of the close-range shelling, the bridge was a mess, indeed the whole ship had been well worked over above the waterline, but the hull had remained reasonably seaworthy. As she began to sink, so the stern rose slightly, clearly showing her name Automedon.

Automedon had left Liverpool on the 25th September 1940, in convoy SL 42, 25 merchant ships and 5 escorts, and was bound for Penang, Singapore, Hong Kong and Shanghai. After 4 days, close to the edge of the Western Approaches, the escorts departed, the Royal Navy so short of escorts, and a day later, just over 1,000 miles west of Liverpool, the convoy dispersed, in part because the U-boat threat wasn’t as great this far out, in part because most of the ships would reach their destinations quicker, not having to sail at the speed of the slowest, in part that the receiving ports weren’t suddenly swamped with ships to unload, making them more efficient as well, and lastly, with everything else borne in mind, each individual ship wasn’t of particularly high value, and could be risked, compared to a troop ship which was always escorted.

She was midway between Ceylon and the Nicobar Islands, heading for the Malacca Straits and Penang, making a steady 14 knots, 79 days at sea. Captain W B Ewan was at peace with the world, that was until he was called to the bridge, merchant ship in sight. It wasn’t unusual to see another ship out here, but being on a similar course left him feeling uneasy.

For Rogge, catching Automedon had been a classic interception, he had closed on the merchantman with a converging course placing himself ahead, then slowing, allowing Automedon to close, until with less than 5000 yards between them he had the ensign run up, and a warning shot fired across the bows. Almost immediately the British wireless began calling out the distress call (RRR – Automedon – 0416N) before he ordered the salvos that took away the radio mast and left the message incomplete, while killing all the officers on the bridge, including Ewan.

The boarding party had found a ship crammed with crated aircraft, motor vehicles and machinery, of value to the allied cause, but of little use for Rogge. They had taken the frozen meat, tinned food, and some cases of scotch, which the crew would appreciate. But what really please Rogge was the 15 bags of top-secret mail for Singapore and a small green bag marked "Highly Confidential" and equipped with holes to allow it to sink if it had to be thrown overboard. He would take some time perusing through that.

With his 13th victim sunk, it was time to set a westerly course back into the Indian Ocean, away from the shipping lane they were in and make the rendezvous with his recently acquired prize vessel Ole Jacob.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1940, Tuesday 12 November;

Recently promoted Lieutenant Roger King looked out to his right, the Stringbag in front was dropping away, losing height, her prop slowing, ‘Christ, engine failure’ he thought, it was one of the bombers, Morford and Greene, he hoped they’d be alright, that just leaves seven of us now. He rolled his shoulders trying to shake off the cold that was creeping in, rechecked his instrument panel again, and then refocused on the aircraft in front, lit under the three quarters moon. He called his navigator; Willis was moaning about the stink the extra fuel tank was making. Strapped into the navigator’s cockpit, between them, Willis was now in the rear gunner’s seat, the fumes flowed straight at him.

They must have been about 60 miles away, but up here at 8,000ft, Taranto could be seen, laying under a low green glow, with small white twinkling of flak bursts, despite the first wave having already left. ‘Bloody ell’ he thought, they’ve right stirred up a hornet’s nest, how will we get through that. Talk was his CO, Hale had bet with Williamson, CO of 815 FAA as to who took the first wave, and lost, 819 FAA was the second wave, just our luck he reflected.

They were close to the harbour now, the two-flare carrying Stringbag’s had peeled off and each dropped a line of eight flares, the anti-aircraft fire intensified in response. King’s orders, like the rest of the second wave was to target what you could, very loose, allowing them to take whatever opportunity that offered. He climbed a couple of thousand feet, and then dived down, the Mar Grande, where the battleships were anchored, the bomb armed Swordfish heading for the Mar Piccolo, where the cruisers and destroyers were anchored, along with the oil tank farm and seaplane base.

Suddenly a huge silver-grey object appeared, he threw the plane sideways, a barrage balloon, they were expected but he’d thought he see them sooner. The plane shuddered, then slide to the side, the balloon disappearing from sight. Taranto city lay on his left, the Mar Grande on his right, his altitude falling fast. Fingers of tracer reached out, trying to touch them, King jinked the plane, the lines of tracer soaring high and wide. He was getting very low now, the sea rushing up to him, time to straighten out, he needed to be level to drop the ‘Fish’, and easing back on the throttle he reduced speed. The Mar Grande lay open in front of him, the fortifications of San Pietro in front of him, an island ablaze with AA fire, tracers weaving their way up into the nights sky in numerous directions.

He scanned across the bay, nearly everything was to his right, the ships silhouettes showing in the moonlight, the flashes from gun barrels and searchlights helping highlight them in the confusion. Pulling on the stick, the biplane swung a wide turn round to the right, a particularly large grey monster appearing in his sights. He checked his speed, easing back a little more, avoid the stall, but slow as he could, looking over the fuselage, the waves looked about right. Tracers from the battleship now reached out for him, but flew by, too high, he was below the minimum level of depression on the gun mountings.

He steadied himself, he could feel his heart pounding, steady, keep her steady, aim amidships, 1500 yds, a bit longer, wait for it, 1200 yds, now. The 1,548 pounds of a Mark XII 18-inch torpedo dropped free, a strand of wire briefly holding her nose up, causing the torpedo to belly flop, instead of dive, her motor running, the weight loss causing the Swordfish to rise dramatically up in the air, the plane gaining speed.

A tremendously loud bang, the plane vibrating to the impact, the controls heavy in his hand, they’d been hit. He took the plane lower, swinging right, dropping under the flak again, wiggling the controls, he found he only had partial movement one way. He tilted a wing down, sliding, he could keep her flying straight now. Looking around, the harbour entrance appeared on his right, and he edged her round, the boom-gate vessel, passing across his sight. He straightened again, and opened the throttle, calling for maximum revs, the old girl responding, speed picking up. A few singing bullets whistled by, a bang, a thin renting tear, as he flew through a machine gun’s line of fire, and then suddenly, there was nothing in front, just the moonlight reflecting off the glassy waves, the cacophony of battle receding behind them, alone.

Willis began to speak in his headset, ‘well done old boy, I thought we were going to buy it at least a couple of times there, I don’t know how anyone could get out of that alive, I didn’t see anyone else after we dived down into the harbour. I have our course setting, steer…’. King turned on the new heading, his mind numb with exhaustion, the adrenalin rush gone, he felt drained. Sighting, firstly, a leading destroyer, Willis on the signal lamp giving the right callsign, then the rest of the fleet, the carrier, ‘Lusty’ waiting for them. King landed the aircraft, and was quickly taxied over to one of the lifts, the effort of flying removed, the tiredness allowing melancholy thoughts, everyone lost, nothing hit, a complete waste.

The lift began its decent, the wings on the Stringbag folded back, the red lights of night time working greeted them, and the hanger was packed, fitters and riggers crawling over Swordfish everywhere, pilots cat calling out, ‘here you are, late again, as usual’, ‘we missed dinner for you’, and the more direct ‘glad to have you chaps back’ straight from the heart. A debrief for him and Willis, the news, two aircraft hadn’t returned, his own groundcrew proudly showing off the damage on the Swordfish, the holes, torn metal, missing parts, breakfast, and the bed, and an exhausted sleep.

The plan had first been aired back in the days of the Abyssinian Crisis, revisited during the German annexation of Austria, both times the crew of HMS Glorious was central to the plan. With the arrival in the Med, of HMS Illustrious in September 1940, came Rear Admiral Lumley Lyster, former Captain of HMS Glorious, and architect of the plan. Cunningham, always wanting to take the initiative, quickly had him revisit the plan again, and despite several knockbacks, and planned within a greater plan of numerous operations designed to disguise their approach, the raid was launched. Two waves, 12 aircraft in the first, 9 in the second, with a mix of torpedoes, bombs, or bombs and flares in each wave.

Both waves had one aircraft shot down, while one of the second wave had to abort before take off due to a collision, and a second after take off due to an unseated fuel tank.
The older battleship Conte di Cavour was sunk, sitting on the bottom, only her superstructure and main armament remaining above water, another older battleship Duilio, was saved from sinking by running her aground, while the new battleship Litttorio, also run aground to save her from sinking, was left with her bows totally submerged. The following day, the undamaged ships of the Italian fleet left, for Naples, until Taranto could be made secure from attack, approximately six months’ time. A major victory for the British, a massive blow to the Regia Marina, and a very informative lesson for a third party, an idea to be developed and worked on.