Escape from Singapore — 7. Jenny's Childhood Memories

These are the memories of "Midge"s daughter Jenny, on the journey from their home in Kuala Lumpur, via Singapore, to Midge's mother near Wolverhampton. This story was written by Jenny (in December 2005) and prepared by Brian Napper.

Midge's account can be seen on pages 6a, 6b and 6c. The symbol ← is used in the text below to link to the appropriate page of Midge's account, which has similar section headings.

Introduction

← My father, Stanley “Plum” Warner, went out to Malaya as a young man, aged nineteen. He was employed by a large rubber company based in K.L. He had met my mother in England before leaving, courted her for five years by letters, and returned to England to marry her in July 1935. They set sail for Malaya soon after their marriage and I was born in Kuala Lumpur in 1936. Apart from a short spell in England in 1939, when my parents were on leave, I lived in K.L. until the Japanese invasion. I have very clear memories of our bungalow, the large garden with coconut trees, beds of cannas and the profusion of wild orchids that grew over our garage. My life was sheltered and carefree. I had a much-loved Chinese amah, who was my constant companion from my birth to the day we had to leave K.L.

Leaving Kuala Lumpur

← My gentle and secure existence ended in December 1941 when Japan invaded Malaya, and my world changed. My father had left home to join the Volunteer Reserves well before the invasion, and my mother had gone to work in his firm. Initially, Amah and I spent our days at home but, as the danger of war grew closer, Amah and I frequently accompanied my mother to the office in K.L. My first awareness of the war occurred during one of these visits to the office. I was outside playing with a favourite toy called “Minibricks”, when a bomb fell close by. I remember the great noise, people running and screaming, and my throwing my box of bricks into the air with shock. I was more upset by the loss of many of my bricks than by the bomb!

The air strikes became more frequent and the invasion drew closer to K.L. My mother’s account (←) describes my father coming to our bungalow on compassionate leave to tell us to get away as soon as possible. I do not remember this event, but I do remember lying with her under the bed when the raids started whilst she was trying to pack. She describes packing mainly food, but for some reason she also packed three tins which contained her colour-graded cotton reels. They were to prove useful much later on (see The Voyage to England). I was allowed to take one toy. I chose a large and favourite stone called Henry. Sadly, Henry was lost when our car was stolen in Singapore.

Our departure from the bungalow was hasty. I remember Amah and the other servants standing crying on our verandah steps and my feeling of bemusement in having to leave them and my pet Angora rabbit behind.

Our Evacuation to Singapore

← We were driven as far as Batang Malacca by our Syce and we were taken in by an English couple. I remember little episodes from our short stay there, perhaps because the woman who lived there tried to create a little magic for me. She kept hens, and one called Friendly sat on my knee and always laid an egg for my breakfast. She made me junket with hundreds and thousands (from the fairies) scattered on top. She woke me one night to see a tree alight with fireflies. The magic, however, did not last long as once again the Japanese were encroaching. Our Syce had returned to his family in K.L. so we had no one to drive the car. I remember my mother trying to learn to drive in the circular drive round the bungalow and I remember the stench and smoke pall from the burning rubber as stocks were destroyed. A Frenchman agreed to drive us to Singapore and the second stage of our journey began. My memories of this journey include watching the endless lines of troops moving up to fight and frequent bombing attacks from low-flying planes. During these attacks, I remember lying in the roadside storm ditches on the edge of the jungle in an attempt at safety.

At Singapore

← I have isolated, but very vivid memories of Singapore at that time. The bombing raids were frequent and often without warning. There were no air raid sirens but I remember the shrill sound of policemen blowing their whistles to alert people to take shelter. I do not remember being afraid during the air attacks, but I dreaded the raids for another reason. If we were in the Adelphi Hotel at the time of a raid, we were all gathered downstairs with our heads under the tables. A well-meaning gentleman¹ (he seemed very large and very old to me as a child) always insisted I put a handkerchief into my mouth to stop me biting my tongue and he then pushed me under a table, almost lying on top of me to protect me. My sense of suffocation and heat were unbearable. I often thought that I would rather be bombed!

On another occasion, my mother had to leave me alone whilst she went out. I was left in our bedroom with strict instructions not to leave the room. During her absence, a bomb fell on a building next to the hotel and the ceiling of the room collapsed. My mother returned to find me sitting on the bed covered in plaster but unhurt. She was angry with me for not going downstairs when the raid started and I still remember my sense of indignation because I felt I had kept to her instructions.

Other memories include picking shells on the edge of a barb-wired beach whilst the sea was ablaze with burning oil from a bombed tanker, and endless hours standing on the docks in the blazing sun waiting for a possible ship.

The Voyage to England

← We eventually left Singapore on the “Empress of Japan”, a ship crowded with women and children. The journey to England was to take around two months and again I have memories of our long time at sea. We were bombed in the earlier stages and torpedo warnings were signalled by a wailing siren. We then had to stand on deck by our lifeboat station until the all clear. To a child, these long hours of standing were very boring and I clearly remember hoping we would have to take to the lifeboats as I could see a large bar of chocolate in the string bag emergency pack of our boat leader!

Food on board ship was unappetising and often very limited. We were each given our own plate and mug and ate in shifts, scooping food from large metal containers at the front of the large dining room. I remember being frequently seasick and later in the voyage developing severe bronchitis.

← We eventually arrived in Cape Town where my mother and I had to change ship. I was still ill and recall sitting on the dockside while we waited to be relocated. Some women from a local voluntary organisation came to help and they also gave us pieces of material and the odd item of clothing.

My mother and I were transferred to another ship (a Scottish ship, the Letitia I believe). It was a much better ship. I remember white table cloths and one or two old menus with a picture of heath-covered Scottish hills which I thought were beautiful. We left Cape Town in a convoy and were then on our own. I clearly remember how the light and the colour of the sea changed as we sailed the Atlantic and experiencing cold for the first time. (The ship may well have sailed well out into the North Atlantic to join a convoy coming in from North America.) Many of the children developed ear infections and the adults used the pieces of material given to them (in Cape Town) to make pixie hoods. I have a wonderful visual memory of a large number of women sitting in a group on deck, surrounded by snivelling children, with my mother like a queen bee sitting at the centre with her three tins of cotton reels of all different colours, carefully matching the exact shade and colour to the individual pieces of material for each of the women in turn!

Arriving in Glasgow

← We arrived in Glasgow on a very cold, grey day. My mother was anxious to get us back to my Grandmother’s house and we went to the rail station. While she tried to get help, she left me in the Ladies’ room of the station hotel. I must have been an odd sight in tattered summer clothes and a pixie hat. I remember strange looking ladies all wearing hats staring at me and patting my head.

We left Glasgow by night train. An organisation had given my mother a pair of pink winceyette pyjamas for me to wear as I had no coat. I clearly remember my feeling of embarrassment at having to wear pyjamas on a railway station but this feeling was overcome when I found that someone had put a lollipop in the pocket!

Back Home with All the Family

← We arrived in Wolverhampton in the early hours of the morning and were met by my Great Aunt and Uncle. They drove us to my Grandmother’s house and I remember being struck by the greyness of England in early spring and fascinated by all the houses with chimneys.

When we arrived at my Grandmother’s house I remember the garden path was lined with yellow crocuses, the only bit of colour in a grey-toned world to my child’s eye. My Grandmother gave me a boiled egg (a rare treat during rationing) and I was then put to rest in her big feather bed. We were home only to face the war in England, but that is another story.

My father escaped from Malaya and eventually turned up at my Grandmother’s house. I remember his unannounced arrival and being picked up and thrown above his head. He was killed by a bomb in Torquay later that year, in October 1942.

¹ Well, I have always thought of him as well-meaning. Nowadays one wouldn't be so sure!

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