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Building
^^^^^ The Life & Times of
Richard Charles Lee
Hong Kong: 1905-1983
Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2009 with funding from Multicultural Canada; University of Toronto Libraries
http://www.archive.org/details/buildingbridgeslOOpoyv
Richard Charles Lee, 1964.
The Life & Times of Richard Charles Lee
Hong Kong: 1905-1983
CALYAN
ViVIENNE POY
CTBuad 龜 Kong Resourct Centr*
First Published in Canada by
Calyan Publishing Ltd.
4151 Sheppard Avenue East, 2nd floor Scarborough, Ontario Canada M1S 1T4
ISBN 1-896501-04-4 Poy, Vivienne
Building Bridges, The Life & Times of Richard Charles Lee Hong Kong, 1905-1983
Copyright © Calyan Publishing Ltd. 1998
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced or used in any form or by any means, without the prior permission of the Publisher.
English Editors: Mary Adachi
Philippa Campsie
Chinese Editor: Simon S.H. So 蘇紹興
Production and Design: Justin Poy Media
Photograph of Author: Dr. Neville G. Poy
By the same author: A River Named Lee
All photographs are courtesy of the Lee family and the copyright in all photographs belongs to the Lee family.
All inquiries regarding the motion picture, television and dramatic rights for this book should be addressed to the Author's representative:
Calyan Publishing Ltd.
4151 Sheppard Avenue East, 2nd floor Scarborough, Ontario Canada M1S 1T4
Representations as to the disposition of these rights are strictly prohibited without express written consent.
Printed and bound in Canada
First printing September 1998
Contents
Acknowledgements xiii
Foreword by Prof. Arthur K.C. Li xv
Prologue XV i
A Farewell xvii
Chapter 1
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford 1
Childhood Studies in Oxford Friendships
Grandfather's Enterprises Chapter 2
From Marriage in Hong Kong to Work in China 16
Father Meets Mother The Wedding Grandfather's Murder Father as Head of the Family Work in Guangzhou Pioneers in Hainan Return to Hong Kong
Chapter 3
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls to the Japanese 36
Defence of Hong Kong The Battle of Hong Kong Under Japanese Occupation The Chinese Guerrillas Father as a Resistance Fighter
Chapter 4
A Family on the Run 55
Retreat from Hong Kong Life in Guilin On the Run Again Life in Chongqing The Japanese Surrender
Chapter 5
After the War: Society Changes
71
Rationing and Shortages Health Problems The Refugee Families Housing Problems Refugees and Industry Refugees and Education
Chapter 6
Launching as Recreation
The Lee Building and the Big House
Servants and Hawkers
Embassy Court
Chapter 7
Towards Racial Harmony: The Hong Kong Country Club 100
A Multi-racial Club Towards Racial Harmony Swimming at the Club
Chapter 8
The Lee Family: Business Projects 108
The Lee Theatre Property Development The Lee Gardens Hotel Father and Hon Chiu The Public Company
Grandmother's Funeral Father and My British Education McGill, Marriage and Family With Father in China
Chapter 10
From Turbulence to Reform: A Vision for Higher Education 137
The Riots of 1967 Social Reforms Father and Education Higher Education A New University
The Magical Years
83
Chapter 9
A Daughter Grows Up
122
Chapter 11
The Japanese Connection, The Japanese School Japan and China Yamaichi Securities
154
Chapter 12
The Chinese Patriot
163
Solving the Water Shortage Between Hong Kong and China The Chinese Connections The Garden Hotel
Chapter 13
The Businessman 181
A New Tunnel The Telephone Company The Gas Company The Rothschild Bank The Danish Connection A Shipping Company The Canadian Connection
Chapter 14
The Freemason: A Lifetime Commitment 197
Chapter 15
A Look into the Future 202
At Peace with Himself
Epilogue 213 Richard Charles Lee: A Career Summary 214 List of Father's Siblings 217
Map of China
Map of Guangdong Province
Map of Hong Kong
Endnotes
Bibliography
Photos
218 219 220 221 238 242
0
To those whose lives have been touched by my father
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
I was able to write this biography of my father because of the gen- erous help of many. In particular, I would like to thank Hon Chiu Lee, Chairman of Hysan Development Co., without whose help this book could not have been written. Yao Kang, Advisor of the Swire Group, Hong Kong, and director of many Swire subsidiaries; Sir Quo Wai Lee, Chairman of the Hang Seng Bank; Anna Li, Father's former secretary; David K.P, Li, Chairman of the Bank of East Asia; Professor Ma Lin, Chairman of Shaw College, The Chinese University of Hong Kong; Shinishi Shiraishi, former deputy president of Yamaichi Securi- ties Co. Ltd., Japan; C.T. Wu, Father's old friend and former employee of the Lee family; Peter Yeung, Director of the Canada-Hong Kong Resource Centre, University of Toronto- York University, Joint Centre for Asia Pacific Studies; and Yoshiyuki Yoshioka, Secretary of the Japanese Club, Hong Kong, must be thanked for their patience in answering my many questions and for giving me a great deal of infor- mation.
I would also like to thank the following who contributed signifi- cantly to the content of this book: Barbara Bennett, Sir Jack and Lady Peggy Cater, Dr. Chi Chao Chan, Chen Jixuan, Chieko Kato, Josephine Chu, Professor Ruth Hayhoe, He Mingsi, He Jianli, Jenny Hoo, Huang Maolan, Per Jorgensen, Albert Kwan, Chien Lee, J.S. Lee, Peter T.C. Lee, Raymand Lee, Violet Lee, Professor Arthur K.C. Li, Aubrey K.S. Li, Greta Li, Lian Weilin, Professor Paul Lin, Donald Liu, Percy O'Brien, Reiko Ogata, William Poy, Lady May Ride, Elizabeth Ride, Dr. Ray Rook, Ronald Ross, Sir Evelyn de Rothschild, Sing Sheng, Joseph and Jeanne Tarn, George Todkill and Wang Kuang.
In my research, I was greatly helped by: Vincent Chen of the Campus Planning and Building Committee of The Chinese University of Hong Kong; Chen Rongsheng, Cultural Consul of the People's Republic of China in Toronto; Frank Ching, Senior Editor at the Far Eastern Eco- nomic Review; Y.C. Wan, Curator of the Hung On -To Memorial Library of the University of Hong Kong Libraries; Johnson Li of the Canada- Hong Kong Resource Centre; Sam-Chin Li, librarian of the Cheng
xttt
Yutung East Asian Library of the University of Toronto; Anne Cheng, lawyer at the Bank of East Asia, Hong Kong; Tiffany K.W, Chan, grad- uate of the University of Hong Kong; T.W. Chu, librarian of the University of Hong Kong Libraries; Wandy Wong, secretary to the Chair- man of Hysan Development Company; and Karen Diensdale, secretary of the Pontifical Institute of Medieval Studies of St. Michael's College, University of Toronto.
I am grateful to University Professor Julia Ching, of the University of Toronto, whose patience and guidance helped me clarify the form of this manuscript and organize the massive amount of information; to Professor Bernard Luk, co-chair of the Joint Centre for Asian Pacific Studies, University of Toronto and York University, for his comments and guidance; to Ku Hanzhao, scholar, and Kan Chung Yuen, a retired civil servant of the former government of Hong Kong, who were kind enough to read the manuscript and offer advice.
My special thanks to Peggy Ku for her tireless assistance, her skill in drawing all the maps, and for the translation of this book into Chinese. Special mention and thanks to my husband, Neville, who reshot many of the old photographs as well as taking new ones, and to our son Justin, who designed the cover, and oversaw its layout and publication.
xtv
FOREWORD
By any standard, Dr. Richard Charles Lee led an incredible and remarkable life. He lived through the tumultuous events of mod- ern Chinese history and played a major role in the making of Hong Kong as we know it today ― a vibrant international city.
Born into an aristocratic Hong Kong family, Oxford educated and for his time, widely travelled, he took charge of a dynastic business empire at a very young age. His vision of a modern China, including the need for international ties and friendships and the role that Hong Kong should play, is as relevant for the future as it was in his day. His love for the people of Hong Kong and the many significant major con- tributions that he made to improve their lives, in housing, education, welfare as well as in many other areas are well documented here in this personal account by his daughter Vivienne Poy. She shares with us the story of a gifted and intelligent man whose life was not without per- sonal tragedies, like the untimely loss of both his father and his son. Dr. Lee was compassionate without being sentimental, and maintained a simple lifestyle despite his wealth.
Dr. Lee was a decisive man of very strong principles. Few people have ever resigned, as he did, from the Executive Council of the Hong Kong Government. He believed in justice and righteousness, blending Confucianism with the best from the West.
As Vivienne playfully remarks, when people speculated long ago that Dr. Lee would be the first Chief Executive of Hong Kong after the resumption of Chinese sovereignty in 1997, little did they realise that he would have been 92 years old! However, the serious point is that speculation stemmed from hope, admiration and a yearning for some- one of his stature and proven track record to take charge of Hong Kong. Perhaps, Dr. R.C. Lee was the best Governor or Chief Executive that Hong Kong never had.
Arthur K.C. Li Vice-Chancellor
The Chinese University of Hong Kong March 1998
XV
PROLOGUE
hat kind of a man was Richard Charles Lee, my father? He was a stern man, rather set in his ways, punctual, disciplined. He always expected a lot of himself. He was a typical Chinese father who never put us on his knees and cuddled us as children, but he always showed that he cared and he always made sure we were well looked after. People who didn't know him were often afraid of him because he looked so solemn when he was not smiling. He was actually very affable and laughed a lot- However, his self-image was that of a very serious man, so he almost never smiled when he knew a photograph was being taken of him. He was hon- est, intelligent, inquisitive, hard-working and kind, and he would go out of his way to help others. He was a man of great generosity to others, but was very frugal towards himself. He was a man of integrity and principle who was willing to die for his beliefs. He was public-spirited and cared for the people and the society he lived in. As I could see at his funeral, those who came to pay their respects to him reflected the life he had lived.
Father was a civil engineer by training. He was a builder both literally and metaphorically. He built two kinds of bridges in his life: those made of steel and concrete and those made of human kindness. Of the two, the most important were the human bridges he built for Hong Kong and for China.
Except for one year, I have been away from Hong Kong since 1956 and because of that, I missed a great deal of what went on in his life. I realize that he belonged not just to his family, but to Hong Kong, its society and its people. He was a part of the history of Hong Kong. For some time I have been very curious about his life, and now I am ready to write about it.
This is an account of Father's life based on my parents' recollections and their correspondence, research and interviews with those close to Father, my own observations and personal experience, and my relationship with him. We are a family of four children, two boys and two girls. Each of us, because of our diverse personalities, had a very different kind of relation- ship with our father. In this book, I am speaking from my own perspective. In order to protect the privacy of the rest of my family, I will mention them from time to time, but they will not play a major role in this account.
Vivienne Poy, Toronto, 1997
xvt
A FAREWELL
July 11, 1983, was one of Hong Kong's typical hot summer days. By early morning, the sun was blazing. Mother, my brother, sister and I, the in-laws and the grandchildren were all up very early. We dressed in black and headed for the Hong Kong Funeral Home. It was the day of Father's funeral.
We had spent the previous few days at the funeral home where more than three thousand people came to pay their last respects. In accor- dance with Chinese custom, when guests approached the casket and the altar where the photograph of Father was displayed, they bowed three times, and our entire family, in black mourning robes provided by the funeral home, rose and bowed in unison to thank them. One day, we had to be at the funeral home unusually early because some of the Legislative and Executive Council members wanted to pay their respects before flying to Beijing for talks with China. On the morning of July 11, guests started arriving at eight in the morning, and many stayed for the service scheduled to start at ten.
It was obvious to anyone present that Father was not an ordinary man. On one side of his photograph was the largest wreath in the hall, from China's newly elected president, Li Xiannian; on the other side was the wreath from the governor of Hong Kong, Sir Edward Youde. Other prominently displayed wreaths were from the vice-chairman of the Military Commission, Yang Shangkun; vice-premier of the State Council, Gu Mu; Ji Pengfei, standing committee member of the Cen- tral Advisory Commission; member of the Central Committee of the Communist Party Xi Zhongxun; Ren Zhongyi, first secretary of the Guangdong Provincial Committee; the political commissar of the Peo- ple's Liberation Army, Yu Qiuli; the governor of Guangdong, Liang Lingguang; the chief secretary of the Hong Kong government, Sir Philip Hadden-Cave; and many prominent citizens of Hong Kong.
The guests coming down the aisle represented a cross-section of the population. Among the many friends and family who came to pay their last respects were dignitaries from Hong Kong and China, including the chairman of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, Michael Sandberg; the managing director of Hong Kong Land, Trevor Bedford; Financial Secre- tary Sir John Brembridge; Chairman of the Urban Council, Hilton
xvu
Cheongleen; Executive Councillors Dr. Harry Fang and T.S. Lo; Leg- islative Councillors Francis Tien and Dr. Rayson Huang; as well as Sir Shiukin Tang and film magnate Sir Run Run Shaw. Two former direc- tors of the local branch of the Xinhua News Agency, Wang Kuang and Lian Weilin, came from Beijing and Guangzhou to attend the funeral. What I remember most of all was the sight of many ordinary people there. Some were our former employees; I knew some of them but not all. They were there because their lives had in some way been touched by Father.
The ten pallbearers were: Fei Yiming, publisher of Ta Kung Pao; Chu- sei Yamada, Japanese Consul-General; Sir Yuetkeung Kan, Executive Councillor; Professor Ma Lin, Vice-Chancellor of The Chinese Universi- ty of Hong Kong; friends P.C. Woo and F.S. Li; Arthur Gomes, the most senior mason of the Irish Constitution in the Far East; N.J. Gillanders, long-time Bursar of the University of Hong Kong; Shum Waiyau, pub- lisher of Wah Kin Yat Po; and Xinhua News Agency chief Xu Jiatun, who obtained special permission from Beijing to be a pallbearer.
The funeral was attended by fifteen hundred people. The service was conducted according to Christian rites by Canon Frank Lin of St. Mary's Church in Causeway Bay, where Father had been a member for more than twenty years. Before the sermon, an old friend of our family, P.C. Woo, gave a short account of Father's life, a life that was not only suc- cessful, but interesting, unusual and most of all, filled with kindness.
In a tribute to Father on behalf of Sir Edward Youde, the governor, who had left for talks in Beijing early that morning, acting governor Sir Philip Hadden-Cave said that with Father's passing, Hong Kong had lost "one of the major public figures of its post-war history,'" Professor Ma Lin, vice-chancellor of The Chinese University of Hong Kong, said that Father's death was a great loss to the university, since he was involved in its foundation well before the university came into being. In fact, Father had always considered The Chinese University as one of his "children." Friends and business associates described Father as "a man of vision," "a sound man with great influence" and "the backbone" of the Lee family. China's leaders referred to Father as an "old friend" and a "patriot. "'
The man on the street lamented the loss of a good man who cared about the ordinary people of Hong Kong. And I lost a loving father.
xvttt
Building
^^^^.^ The Life & Times of Richard Charles Lee
Hong Kong: 1905-1983
1
The Young Man: From Hong Kong To Oxford
Hong Kong, at the turn of the century, was a city of palaces and more magnificent than the hillside Italian city of Genoa. Above the city of Victoria was a suburb hanging in the clouds of the Peak where the wealthy British lived. This was how American Eliza Ruhamah Scidmore described Hong Kong in her book China: Long lived Empire, published in 1900. A new hospital for Europeans had just opened on the Peak, and a newspaper, the South China Morning Post, had been launched. Only Europeans were permitted to live on the Peak, with the exception of Sir Robert Hotung's family.
At the foot of the hill, the first trams were put into service in 1904, all single-deckers, open to the elements. The carriages that used to fill the streets had vanished, and the coach houses of great mansions stood empty. Everyone went about by rickshaw or sedan chair, and carts were pulled by oxen or water buffalo. One could hear the sighs of coolies as they made their way along the streets, shoulders straining under their heavy loads on bamboo poles. 丁 he motor car had yet to reach Hong Kong.
The population of the Colony had reached over 325,000, the majority being Chinese. Water shortages were a perennial problem
2 Building Bridges
and new and bigger reservoirs were being planned. In 1901, the drought was so severe that water had to be shipped from the New Territories to Victoria.
The port of Hong Kong was expanding, and huge warehouses, known as godowns, lined the Kowloon waterfront. The number of ships entering the harbour increased 60 per cent from the previous ten years. Industries such as sugar refineries, flour mills, cotton mills and cement works had sprung up. Hong Kong Land was progressing with its land reclamation in Central (commercial section of Victoria), and the area was dotted with new four or five-storey buildings. Busi- nesses were controlled by the hongs, such as Jardine Matheson and Butterfield & Swire in shipping, the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank in banking, and John Swire's Taikoo in sugar refinery.
While the hongs were investing their opium fortunes in legitimate businesses, the government derived an annual revenue of about $2 million from the sale of the opium monopoly to the highest bidders, despite the strong opposition to the drug in Britain. Opium smoking was so popular among the Chinese that it was estimated that one in ten men was an opium smoker. Even though there was a gradual reduction of divans (establishments where Chinese men gath- ered to smoke opium) and no new licences were sold by the Hong Kong government after 1910, the sale of opium remained legal until 1945, and licences continued to be sold to the highest bidder by the Portuguese government in Macao.
The population of Hong Kong lived in two separate communities, the Chinese and the non-Chinese, each having very little to do with the other except at work. The Chinese men wore their hair in queues (pigtails) in Manchu style, and few dressed in Western clothes. Most of them wore mandarin jackets and pants or long gowns, with soft black shoes. They did not take part in foreign sport and none went swimming. The vast majority of them had no contact with Europeans at all. The old men spent time taking their caged birds for an airing outdoors, and the youngsters liked to kick a shuttlecock or fly a kite. In the evening, one could hear the clatter of mah jong, the favourite game of the Chinese.
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford
As for the Chinese women, with the exception of petty hawkers, sampan women, scavengers and seamstresses, none went out onto the streets. The upper-class women had bound feet and never left their family compounds. The poorer classes wore cotton clothes like pyja- mas, while the upper-class ladies wore beautifully embroidered pants, skirts and mandarin jackets.
Despite the description of Hong Kong as a city of palaces, it was, for the Chinese population, a very unhygenic place in which to live. Plague was endemic and malaria was widespread. Officers of the sanitary teams charged with rat-proofing houses and spraying mos- quito breeding grounds were discovered, by an enquiry in 1907, to have made small fortunes by evading the law, in collusion with prop- erty owners and building contractors. Sanitary problems magnified racial prejudice, and demands were made for separate residential areas to be set aside for Westerners and Chinese. Following the cre- ation of the Peak reservation, an ordinance in 1902 set aside an area in Kowloon for the Europeans, since the government believed the Chinese could not be trusted to keep the mosquito population down. However, exceptions were made by Foreign Secretary Joseph Cham- berlain, who, on approval of a separate area for "people of clean habits," added that Chinese of good standing should be permitted residence there.
The Chinese population had come a long way since Hong Kong became a British colony in 1841. Many of its enterprising members had become wealthy. This new merchant class was recognized by the colonial government as leaders in their community due to their com- mercial success and their leadership in organizations such as the Tung Wah Hospital, a charitable organization which became the centre of Chinese power in the Colony. Despite the segregation in most schools, Queen's College encouraged the enrollment of boys of different nation- alities. Chinese students from this school had the advantage of learning Western culture and the Western way of doing business.
This was the Hong Kong into which Father was born.
4 Building Bridges
Childhood
On March 7, 1905, concubine Cheung Mun Hee (Second Lady) of Grandfather Lee Hysan, gave birth to a son, Ming Chak, my father. He was not only the eldest son, but also the first surviving child in the family, as an older sister born to Grandfather's wife (Grandmother) died soon after birth. When Second Lady became pregnant, there was great excitement because Grandfather had been married for seven years and still did not have a child. A European midwife was arranged for the delivery, since Grandfather didn't feel that he could take any more chances after the death of his first child. It was believed that European midwives were cleaner and more knowledgeable than their Chinese counterparts.
When Father was born. Grandfather was delighted that he finally had an heir. Father's birth was also regarded as a lucky omen for the family, for from then on, Grandfather's import-export business flour- ished. His company, Nam Hung Shipping Co., carried goods from China to Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaya and Rangoon. He became a well-known and respected merchant of the Nam Pak Hong Business Association in Hong Kong, an association of merchants who traded between China and Southeast Asia.
According to Chinese custom, when a concubine has a son and the wife does not, the son is taken from his birth mother to live with the wife, in order to bring her luck and fertility. This was the case with Father, who grew up in Grandmother's household. He did indeed bring her luck, for after the birth of a second son by Second Lady, Grandmother gave birth to two sons and two daughters.
Father had a very special relationship with Grandmother because he grew up in her household, and she came to treat him as her own. She respected his judgment and that became important for the entire family after Grandfather died.
Father was a healthy child, alert and sturdy, with a narrow face and a small stature like his mother, Second Lady. He had strong, square hands, and his skin was as dark and shiny as Grandfather's. He probably wore his hair in a queue when he was very young, as Grandfather did, since it wasn't until the Revolution of 1911 that Chinese men abandoned this custom.
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford
As a small child, Father lived in Hong Kong and sometimes visited his grandparents, my great-grandparents, in China. At the time, Great-grandparents lived in our ancestral village, Garlieu, in the south of Guangdong province. Father once told me that Great-grand- parents used to have only two meals a day, one early in the morning and the other between four or five in the afternoon. It seemed very- strange to me, but that was the habit of the Chinese people who lived in the countryside. I'm sure it was also because food was scarce. As Grandfather became more prosperous, it was rumoured that bandits intended to kidnap his parents, so he built a house for them in Sun- wui city, not far from Garlieu.
Being the eldest son, Father was not only important to Grandfather, he was doted on by Great-grandparents. As a show of affection, Great- grandfather used to feed Father all the time when they were together, and even stuffed chicken legs in his mouth when he was asleep! He also told Father about the dreadful trip in a sailing ship across the Pacific to the Golden Mountain (San Francisco) during the gold rush, and the life of Chinese people in America. Even though Grandfather was the second son of Great-grandparents, Father's position in the family was consid- ered so important that, when Great-grandfather died, and his body travelled in a boat along the river that ran past Garlieu village, Father sat in the front of the boat and Grandfather sat at the back, with the coffin in the middle. This was how the body was transported to the bur- ial place according to our village custom.
Because of repeated outbreaks of plague in Hong Kong, Grand- father moved his family to Macao when Father was five years old. Most of the family remained there until 1918, although Grandfa- ther continued to work in Hong Kong. As a well-educated man, he was concerned about the education of his children, both sons and daughters, so he hired a well-known Chinese teacher, Chen Zibao, to teach them.
As time went on, Grandfather invested in many successful busi- nesses, and became one of the wealthiest men in the Colony. He took a second and later on a third concubine (Third Lady and Fourth Lady). According to Chinese custom in those days, it was considered a sign of wealth to have many concubines and children. The number
6 Building Bridges
of children in the family increased, and Grandfather was good to them all. Realizing the importance of an English education for his children in the British Colony, Grandfather brought Father back to Hong Kong from Macao, and enrolled him in Queen's College, one of the best-known colonial schools at that time, regarded as the Har- row or Eton of the Far East.
Grandfather had learned English in San Francisco as a child, dur- ing the years he lived there with his father. After they returned to China, Great-grandfather had the foresight to enroll Grandfather in Queen's College in Hong Kong in order to continue his English edu- cation, where he was able to make friends who became important to him in later life. He wanted the same advantages for his children.
Studies in Oxford
Since he was well acquainted with the English educational system, Grandfather thought it best for his children to send them to school in England so that they could be totally immersed in the English tradi- tion. At the same time, they would have the opportunity to make friends who could help them later on in life. In 1917, at the age of twelve, Father and his third brother were sent to study in England with a governess. They lived at the home of a Mr. Churchill, and were tutored there in preparation for university entrance. It was then that they acquired their English names: Father became Richard Charles and Third Uncle became Harold. Several years later, two younger sis- ters were also sent to England for schooling. Once the children went to England, they were expected to stay until they finished their edu- cation. The boys were told before they left that if they married non-Chinese while they were away, they would be automatically dis- inherited.
Father was fond of Mr. Churchill, whom he referred to as "Old Man Churchill" to us, and with whom he continued to correspond until Mr. Churchill died. Even when Mr. Churchill began to lose his sight, he continued to write to Father, with some help, I am sure. I remember seeing his scribbles.
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford
7
By the 1920s, it was fashionable for the more adventurous and wealthy Chinese parents to send their children abroad to school ― to France, Germany, England and Japan. These students were usually of university age. Most of the Chinese students from Hong Kong went to England. The only mode of travel was by ship via the Suez Canal, and the long trip took weeks.
In a letter to his old friend and neighbour in Macao, Father wrote about the Chinese he met:
Since my arrival in England, 1 have been well. Generally, the climate and life here are quite suitable to the Chinese ... In the town of Oxford, there were less than ten Chinese stu- dents including myself ... There are two Chinese in town, by the names of Zhou and Chen, from the village of Hoip- ing,' who are to be admired. They arrived here, by mistake, eleven years ago. They wanted to go to London, Ontario, Canada, to make a living. However, the tickets that were bought for them were incorrect, and neither knew that there were two Londons in the world. When they arrived in London, England, no relatives came to meet their boat, and they knew something was wrong. Not knowing whether to laugh or to cry, they realized they had arrived in a different part of the world, with no friends and with very little money. A few days later, they made their way to Oxford, and opened a laundry establishment. They worked hard and had become very well known for the best laundry ser- vice. Almost all the students in Oxford send their laundry to them. It shows that, for those who are abroad, with hard work, they will succeed. Being very busy, I am sorry I don't see them as often as I would like, and have forgotten their first names. These two can put many present-day overseas Chinese students to shame.
He went on to say that despite the importance the parents put on education, many of the Chinese students in England were not really interested in studying:
8 Building Bridges
The majority of the present-day overseas Chinese students have no idea how difficult it is to make a living. They are generally lazy, and are constantly complaining how diffi- cult the subjects are, so they often skip the examinations. But, fearing rebukes from their parents, they enroll into colleges that do not have examinations and anyone can be accepted. There are many such colleges in both towns of Oxford and Cambridge. These students will write home to say that they have entered Oxford or Cambridge Universi- ties, and their parents would not know any better. Their parents will send them money which they will spend lav- ishly. In three years' time, they will buy a degree to return to China. 丁 here is usually a lot of fanfare when these stu- dents return home, but if they are ever asked, by someone who knows, which university they graduated from, Oxford or Cambridge, they would be in trouble ...
China is so weak among so many strong nations, if the younger generation has no ability, how can we save China? These students are not capable of thinking. There are so many in China who want to study, but their families can- not afford to send them abroad. Those who have the chance to go abroad and not study hard are to be pitied.
And he concluded on a personal note:
Oxfordshire has the climate that makes people tired. Many go to the seaside during the summer to avoid illness. I will be going away and will return to Oxford at the end of the summer.'
We can tell from this letter that Father's lifelong wish to help China and the Chinese people was already emerging.
In 1923, Father entered Pembroke College, Oxford, to study Civil Engineering, where he was known to the other undergraduates as Dickie Lee. Percy O'Brien, who entered Pembroke in 1924 to read Chemistry, remembers Father as a sprightly individual who was always happy and smiling. He walked quickly, was always in a hurry, and very
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford
9
punctual. He was well dressed and carried a watch chain across his waistcoat. Father studied excessively hard and spent hours reading in the Radcliffe Science Library. At times he showed O'Brien some of his studies on the mathematics of engineering which O'Brien found very obtuse and difficult to understand/
By the time he entered Pembroke, Father was already used to life in England, but life in the colleges was a different experience. Undergraduate behaviour was still controlled by the statute de Moribus Conformandis of 1636, even though rules had been modi- fied. Colleges exacted small gate fines from those who were not back in college by a certain hour in the evening. Although tobacco could be purchased (its sale having been banned in 1636), no under- graduate was allowed to smoke in academic dress. A rule prohibiting students from keeping motor cars had been rescinded, and so Father was able to own one. Students were not allowed to play billiards before one o'clock in the afternoon or after ten o'clock at night, and they were forbidden to loiter at stage doors, attend public race meetings or take part in shooting and other sports. Their opportunities for dancing, drinking and dining were carefully regu- lated. A male undergraduate was not allowed to enter the room of a female undergraduate, but a female student was allowed to enter the room of a male with a chaperone, with special leave from the head of her college.'
Pembroke had some well-established customs that no longer exist. Undergraduates were obliged to attend college chapel daily at eight o'clock in the morning under the threat of a fine of two shillings and sixpence. Less onerous was the penalty for talking "shop" in the hall. 丁 he perpetrator could be challenged to drink one or more pints of beer without pause from a tankard marked by pegs within, to bring the ego down a peg or two.''
Father was privileged to have lodgings in the Old Quadrangle, regarded as superior by the students. His rooms were on the ground floor, with a bedroom, a small pantry and a fairly large sitting/din- ing/study room with a fireplace. The communal rooms were in the back of the Quadrangle, and the undergraduates sometimes had to trudge through snow and ice in the winter to reach them. There was no college
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nurse or doctor in those days; the undergraduates were supposed to be tough. In the evening, the gates were closed at nine o'clock when the Old Town clock chimed. Latecomers were fined, so the students found ways of climbing into the residences without being caught.'
The residences were taken care of by "scouts," who were essential to college life. Each scout was in charge of a "staircase," meaning a set of rooms that branched off from a staircase. In some respects, a scout was like a servant, but in many ways, he was more like a "wife and parent" to his men. He cared for their general welfare, looked after them when they were ill, advised them, got them out of trouble and put them to bed when they were drunk. Father was very fortunate to have a fine scout named Fred. Fred would light Father's fire, clean his room, make his bed and do his laundry. It was also Fred's duty to make Father's breakfast and lunch and look after his parties.
The Master of Pembroke during Father's time was Dr. Holmes Dudden, a man of great distinction and ability, a very good adminis- trator and an author of some note. To be invited to dine at Pembroke was much sought after in the 1920s, because of its fine table and excellent wines.
Friendships
During his university days, Father made some very good friends with whom he kept in touch all his life. Many became prominent in their own countries. One was Percy O'Brien, who later became a tutor and Fellow of Pembroke. Until he retired in 1974, he was Direc- tor of the Nuffield Department of Clinical Biochemistry in the Oxford Medical School.
Another was Qian Changzhao, who became an important official in China under the Nationalist leader Chiang Kaishek. Both Qian and Father subsequently devoted themselves to the betterment of the lives of the Chinese. While Father spent most of his life in Hong Kong, Qian remained in China. After the Nationalist government was ousted, Qian served the government of the People's Republic of China. Qian was per- secuted during the Cultural Revolution. In the early 1960s, the two men were able to resume a friendship that had been interrupted during the
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford 1 1
Chinese civil war (1945-1949) and the subsequent restrictions on its population imposed by the Chinese government.
Other schoolmates were Liu Jia, later Chiang Kaishek's represen- tative at the United Nations in the 1950s, and Konosuke Koike, a graduate of Tokyo University, who later became chairman of Yamaichi Securities. Although Father lost contact with Koike because of the Pacific War, the two men were able to pick up where they left off in the late 1960s.
The one friend Father made who was not a student at Oxford was Ley On, whom we came to call Uncle. Ley On was adopted by a fam- ily without a son, in our ancestral village. He was badly treated, so he sold himself as an indentured labourer to North America when he was in his teens. When his contract was over, he stowed away on an ocean liner, not knowing where it was going. He arrived in France and found himself unable to communicate with anyone, so he board- ed a boat to an English-speaking country, again as a stowaway, and arrived in London. This was around the same time Father and Third Uncle were in England. Ley On was an enterprising young man who started a small Chinese restaurant in London, catering mainly to overseas Chinese students.
Father and his young friends would go to Ley On's restaurant whenever they were in London. Father used to tell me that Ley On made his tofu with an ingredient that gave his patrons diarrhea! Despite that, the two young men became good friends. I am sure Father admired Ley On for his diligence and entrepreneurial spirit. Ley On went on to become a successful restaurateur in London and the owner of many racehorses. His restaurant was frequented by famous movie stars who befriended him. Probably because he had a classic Chinese face ― with high cheekbones and slanted eyes ― and was tall and dark-skinned, he was asked to act in small parts in Hol- lywood movies. I first met him when he stayed with us in Hong Kong in the early 1950s, by which time he had become an alcoholic. I remember Father telling him, "It's a custom in Hong Kong not to drink before sundown!"
All Oxford undergraduates boarded in the colleges, and they were required to have dinner with the Master and the fellows in the hall.
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In fact, although undergraduates were free to choose whether they wanted to attend the lectures, they were strictly advised to attend the dinners. If an undergraduate's annual attendance at the dinners was not sufficient, he would lose the right to sit for examinations. At each table, ten to twelve undergraduates who had joined the college in the same year would sit together. In spite of the fact that the subjects they took were different, they usually became good friends, bonded by the habit of eating meals at the same table.
Konosuke Koike entered Pembroke College in 1923. Since he and Father both entered in the same year, they sat at the same table for dinners. They played sports together and became close friends. In winter, when the British students played rugby, Father and Koike would go to the gymnasium to box.'" Boxing was a favourite sport of many Pembroke men. Father loved the sport even though he broke his nose doing it.
Father had high ideals and was a leader among men. He became President of the Chinese Students' Union of Europe in 1925. He already knew then that he would spend his life helping his country- men. He kept all the menus of the Union dinners on which he and his fellow students sketched their plans for a brave new China.
Grandfather's Enterprises
While Father was in England, Grandfather's businesses continued to prosper. He became one of the wealthiest men in Hong Kong and a well-respected citizen in the community. Real-estate development became his main business, and he purchased land and built row- houses, mainly for the Chinese middle class in Hong Kong. He also invested in many companies in Hong Kong, such as the China Sugar Refinery, Hong Kong Electric, the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, and the Dairy Farm Ice and Cold Storage Co., and he became a major shareholder and a member of the consulting team of China Light & Power Company, which supplied electricity to south China and Hong Kong. Unfortunately, he also invested in the Yue Sing firm, which held the opium monopoly from 1924 from the Portuguese govern- ment of Macao, and this caused his misfortune later.
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford 13
Around the time of the First World War, while Father was in Eng- land, Grandfather purchased a large piece of land on the side of a hill on Kennedy Road with the intention of building a home for his fam- ily. Because of the war and labour problems, the house was not built until 1920. It was designed and constructed by Palmer and Turner, the same firm that designed the head office of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank on the Bund in Shanghai. The designs of the two buildings were rather similar. The family home, called Dai Uk, meaning the Big House, was one of the grandest homes in Hong Kong. Father did not see the Big House until he returned to Hong Kong in 1927.
The Big House commanded a magnificent view of Hong Kong Harbour. The beautiful gardens with their fountains, pagodas, artifi- cial hills and caves, bamboo groves, chicken coops and vegetable plots were surrounded by high walls. At the main gate stood a guard house where a tall Sikh kept watch with a shotgun. Sikhs were tradi- tionally hired as guards in Hong Kong because the Chinese regarded them as fierce-looking. Our guard's family lived in their own com- pound beside the garden of the fountain of the Goddess of Mercy.
The Big House consisted of three floors. The second and the third floors were living quarters for the family, with large balconies and a kitchen on each floor. For family meals, the men were served on the second floor, and the women and children on the third floor. The ground floor was reserved for entertaining. It consisted of an enor- mous front hall, the library, the bamboo room and other entertaining rooms and the main kitchen in the back. From the front hall, one walked out onto the terrace to a panoramic view of the Hong Kong harbour. The house was filled with objets d'art from all over the world.
Besides being grand, the Big House was also a home away from home for all the Lee relatives or visitors from our ancestral village. There were many guest rooms behind the entertainment rooms on the ground floor, and anyone who needed a place to stay or a good meal was welcomed. Grandfather was known for his generosity which extended to distant relatives. Throughout his life, he made sure that his siblings were financially secure, and that all his nieces and
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nephews were in good schools or were given good jobs. His sons car- ried on this tradition after his death.
The land where the Big House stood was so large that Grandfather decided to erect another building at the other end of the property higher up on the hill. It was a three-storey apartment built in the same style as the Big House, with a wide central staircase, and large bal- conies for each apartment. This was called Lee Hong, meaning Lee Building, and was rented to tenants during Grandfather's lifetime. I wonder whether at the time Grandfather could foresee that, as his family expanded, the Lee Building would be used by them as well. My family lived in both the Big House and the Lee Building until the beginning of the 1950s.
In 1920, experts from England went to Hong Kong to investigate land development around the harbour. In their opinion, the develop- ment in the west had reached its limits, and the Colony's future lay in the east around Kowloon Bay. Grandfather then looked into buying land in that area for housing development. Hong Kong island was difficult to build on because of the hilly terrain. In order to build row- housing, hills had to be levelled and the soil used for landfill to create more flat land. In January 1924, Grandfather made the most high- profile purchase of his life. He bought East Point Hill from John William Buchanan Jardine for the sum of $3,850,960.35. East Point Hill was the original homestead, offices and godowns of the Jardine taipans. The property also included the homes of the number one and number two taipans, with a riding stable in between. The original agreement with the government was to use the soil on East Point Hill for land reclamation in North Point, but the government reneged on the agreement, so development was stalled. In the meantime, in order to earn income from the property, Grandfather turned it into a gar- den and amusement park for the Chinese, called The Lee Gardens. The Chinese population needed recreation areas, since parks built by the government were restrictive. The Lee Gardens became the year- round pleasure ground for the Chinese and was financially very successful. The taipans' houses became restaurants.
Grandfather planned ahead for his family. In 1925, he established the Lee Hysan Estate Company, which owned East Point Hill and a
The Young Man: From Hong Kong to Oxford 15
number of other properties. He then continued to develop the areas in the vicinity of The Lee Gardens, clearing slums and building wide streets and well-constructed houses.
As an entrepreneur, Grandfather was always looking into new businesses. He loved Chinese opera, and felt that there was a need for a new type of staging that would make changing scenery in a Chinese opera easier. In 1926, he built the Lee Theatre on Percival Street and equipped it with a revolving stage which allowed the realistic touch of scenery changes as the actors walked along. Chinese opera in the Cantonese vernacular was the most popular type of entertainment, and the theatre became hugely successful. The theatre had a beautiful high dome, decorated with dragon designs and lights, and a movie screen was subsequently added. Many Chinese opera stars started their careers at the Lee Theatre.
2
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China
Upon graduation from Oxford University in 1927, Father returned to Hong Kong at the age of twenty-two, after having been away for ten years. His plan was to go back to England to do his practical training. Grandfather was delighted to have his eldest son back, and this time, he wanted to see his son get married before leaving again. The word was out, and many girls were brought to Grandmother for her approval.
The Hong Kong Father returned to was a society that he did not remember. He had been treated as an equal in England, and now he was back in a colony where the British still believed that they were the master race of Asia. There was segregation in every facet of life in the Colony. In hospitals and the Hong Kong civil service, segrega- tion persisted until the Second World War. An example was the Matilda Hospital on the Peak, which in 1940 refused to admit an American woman because she was married to a Chinese. It was not until 1942 that the civil service dropped the demand that all candi- dates for positions should be of pure European descent. As late as 1992, all senior posts in the civil service were held by British officers. It was the policy of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank not to have
16
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 17
Chinese on the board, and many British firms forbade employees to marry non-British women.
Father was a diligent student who benefited from the British liber- al education that taught the equality of men. Therefore, when he returned to Hong Kong, he could not accept the stigma of being a sec- ond-class citizen. Having been used to riding in England, Father wanted to join the Hong Kong Jockey Club, but was refused entry because he was Chinese. Grandfather immediately said, "We don't need them. We will start a Chinese Jockey Club." On hearing that, Father was immediately allowed to ride there, because the Hong Kong Jockey Club depended on the income from bets placed by the Chinese population.
Hong Kong's colonial snobbery was described by Ely Kadoorie, a successful merchant in Shanghai as well as in Hong Kong, as small "shopkeeper's mentality." He was comparing international Shanghai to a very British Hong Kong. However, at least the racial chasm in business was narrowing, for the Chinese were not excluded from any commercial activities. Father realized that Hong Kong was a place to do business, but, as someone who believed in the brotherhood of men, it was not a society he would choose to live in.
Father Meets Mother
As a sociable young man, Father was always seen with a group of friends. One day that summer, not long after he returned from Eng- land, he was with his friends on a beach when two girls dropped by on their way home from a tennis game. As one of them caught his eye, he asked a girl he knew, Julia Wong, to introduce him. Julia said, "Don't bother with her, she's just my younger sister!" Father persist- ed, and thereby met Esther, my mother. They ended up spending the rest of the afternoon together.
Mother was only seventeen, a student at the Diocesan Girls' School, when she met Father. It was a whirlwind courtship and they fell in love. But Mother was not ready to get married; she wanted to finish school first. Father's parents were delighted that their son had
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found someone so suitable. When Father proposed, they went to see Mother's parents to ask for consent, but Mother stated she was just not ready. Grandfather then came up with a brilliant idea: he would send Mother to study at Oxford, where Father was to finish his prac- tical training. Mother could study Portuguese to help in the Lee family business. Grandfather also promised to take her parents on a trip around the world to visit the young couple the following year. That did it, and Mother agreed to get married.
All this happened so quickly that my parents didn't really have time to get to know each other well. Theirs was a relationship that grew with the years together, establishing mutual trust, understand- ing and respect that lasted throughout their lives.
The Wongs, Mother's family, were modern and progressive. Grand- father Wong, one of the elite in the Chinese society in Hong Kong, was good friends with Hong Kong notables Sir Robert Hotung and Sir Shou Son Chau. The Wongs lived a luxurious life on Prince Edward Road. When Mother and her siblings were growing up, they not only had a large household staff and gardeners, but also four cars so that the growing children could drive themselves around.
Mother always prided herself that her father was the first person in Hong Kong to own a motor car when cars were first imported into the Colony in 1912, despite the fact that the Chinese community described cars as "coughing, spluttering, honking demons." Mother's parents, Joseph and Jeannie, had eleven children of whom eight were girls. Mother was the number-five daughter. Mother and her siblings lived a free and easy life, driving everywhere, swimming, playing ten- nis and dancing. Mother used to get caught by the police for speeding, probably on her way to buy sweets, of which chocolates were her favourite. Mother also took flying lessons but never got her licence.
Mother was fond and proud of her family. Her grandfather, Great- grandfather Wong, had gone to the West Indies as a young man to work as a labourer. He returned to China with a sizable fortune when he was in his early thirties and moved to Hong Kong to work as a court interpreter because of his knowledge of English. He chose a wife from a convent school run by German nuns, a girl whose father and brother were both ministers of the church. She spoke not only English
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 19
and Chinese, but also German, and she wore only European clothes. That was unusual for a Chinese girl at that time. The two did not know each other well when they got married. Great-grandmother Wong later told her grandchildren she wondered on her wedding day why her wealthy husband had such rough hands.
As a court interpreter, Great-grandfather Wong was well paid. The Wongs lived on a large estate near Boundary Street in Kowloon. (丁 he land was subsequently repossessed by the Hong Kong government, and they were relocated to present-day Prince Edward Road.)
Mother and her siblings were full of stories of the fun they had as children when they visited their grandparents. The person who was held in highest esteem by the grandchildren was the matriarch of the Wong clan, Great-grandmother Wong. She loved having them around and used to teach them to sing German songs. She was religious and encouraged the grandchildren to sing hymns to her by rewarding them each time. She spent her time doing charitable work, which continued after she was confined to a wheelchair. Her grandchildren were impressed by the fact that she chose a concubine for her husband when she was tired of bearing children. But the real reason for finding a concubine was to have someone willing to stay in the village in China to look after her in-laws, since Great-grandfather was the only son, and Great-grandmother certainly didn't want the job. There were a total of sixteen children, of which eleven were her own.
In his home village Great-grandfather Wong was regarded as the son who made good. When he returned to Dong Guan (Guangdong province) from abroad, he built a house with gun towers for the fam- ily in his ancestral village, Ho Pak Kiu. The Wongs were Hakka, (guests), who were later settlers on the land, and therefore got poorer land than the Punti (locals). They had to fight with their neighbours to protect the water supply needed for their fields.
The Wongs owned rice fields, leichee orchards and a peanut oil facto- ry. Whenever Great-grandfather Wong or any of his sons returned from Hong Kong to check on the business, they were met at the train station by an armed brigade for protection.' Due to the deterioration of law and order in China, rural militarization became the norm, and armed guards were standard for the landlords, especially absentee landlords.
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Traditionally, the Pimti and the Hakka did not inter-marry. Father, being a Punti, used to tease Mother that Hakka women had big feet, considered ugly to the traditional Chinese. The fact was that Hakka women never bound their feet because they did a large share of the work in the fields, and besides, they were needed to help in the fight- ing and had to be able to run fast.
It was Great-grandfather Wong's wish that his descendants would one day return to the ancestral village, so at the entrance of the house he placed a large picture entitled "Hundred birds returning to the nest." However, only the eighth son, who was the first-born of the concubine, actually lived and remained in the village, looking after the rice fields and the business. The rest of the children chose to live in Hong Kong, and with the political unrest that existed over the years in China, it was at times impossible for them to return even for a visit. The only time a number of them went back was during the Second World War, after the surrender of Hong Kong. Food was scarce in Hong Kong, and there was always enough to eat in the vil- lage because of the rice fields that the family owned.
Great-grandfather Wong was well known and respected in Hong Kong. When he died, many people came to pay their respects by kow- towing all the way in from the entrance to the altar of their red house on Prince Edward Road. He had a grand funeral, with four white horses drawing the carriage that carried his coffin. The family was sent so many flowers that the colony's shops were said to have run out of flowers. 2
Mother's father, Joseph, was the second son. He was a prosperous and well-respected member of Hong Kong society, a chartered accoun- tant and the first president of the Chinese Association of Chartered Accountants. During the First World War, he was in the police reserve in Hong Kong, when many of the British went to fight in Europe, and the gap had to be filled. His daughters Josephine and Jennie remem- ber him looking very handsome in his white uniform.
Whenever there was a shortage of personnel, Grandfather Wong would fill in as interpreter in the law courts. He became a Justice of the Peace in 1923, and subsequently was decorated by both King George VI and Dr. Sun Yatsen. After his first wife died childless, he
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 21
married Jeannie Maxwell, my grandmother, Jeannie's nickname was Beauty, because she was a beautiful Eurasian girl. Great-grandmoth- er Wong encouraged her sons to marry Eurasians because she wanted beautiful grandchildren, and she had many.
Grandmother Jeannie Maxwell Wong was one of four children and the only daughter of John Maxwell and a Chinese lady whose name we don't know, because she was always referred to as Grandmother by Mother and her siblings. John Maxwell went to Hong Kong from Scotland in the nineteenth century, stayed on to work and to get mar- ried. He chose a Chinese girl from an orphanage which was the precursor of the Po Leung Kuk, an institution established in 1878 by a group of wealthy and influential Chinese gentlemen to protect des- titute women and children. That was really his only option, since there were very few European women of marriageable age of his own class, and no Chinese girl from a good family would consider him eli- gible. Great-grandfather Maxwell worked as a policeman in Hong Kong, and by all accounts, he was a fine father to his children.
In those days, Eurasians did not belong to either the Chinese or the European communities, so they had to try very hard to be one or the other. Grandmother Jeannie Maxwell Wong became more Chinese than the Chinese. She could understand and speak English, but she could read only Chinese. She was the authority on Chinese customs, and everyone in the Wong family always consulted her. I remember her in her later years looking very serene in a Chinese cheongsam, wearing her hair in a bun.
The Wedding
My parents' wedding took place on February 28, 1928, at St. John's Cathedral. Mother always said that she wished the fashion for wedding dresses that year had been long gowns instead of short, but, having to be fashionable, she had a short wedding dress of silver lace trimmed with pearls, and she carried white roses. Mother was a beau- tiful girl, tall for a Chinese and rather big-boned. She had to wear low-heeled shoes so that she would not look taller than Father. In fact, she kept growing after they were married and became quite a bit
22 Building Bridges
taller than Father. She was as fair-skinned as Father was dark, with brown hair covered by her wedding head-piece that came down to her eyebrows, according to the fashion of the day. She had a large wedding party, with her sisters and cousins in dresses of different pas- tel colours and decorated with rosettes. They were beautiful young women and girls, and all Great-grandmother Wong's grandchildren.
The Cathedral was filled to the brim with Chinese and European guests, and many people had to stand outside because they couldn't get in. The wedding was performed by the Very Rev. A. Swann, Dean of Hong Kong, who broke tradition by officiating at a Chinese wed- ding for the first time. Hong Kong society was so divided between the Chinese and the Europeans that it was only on occasions like these that the two groups were brought together.
The reception was held at The Lee Gardens where a huge matshed (a structure of bamboo and straw) was erected, because the taipans' houses were not large enough to accommodate the two thousand guests. Hong Kong Hotel, which was one of Father's favourite hotels, catered the affair. A dais was erected to support a six-tier wedding cake. Sir Robert Hotung toasted my parents and speeches were made by Sir Robert, Dr. Robert H. Kotewall and Father.
After the wedding, my parents went on their honeymoon by boat to Europe. They sailed through the Suez Canal and did what most tourists do in Egypt, riding camels and visiting the Sphinx. Their first stop in Europe was Switzerland, where Mother met Third Uncle for the first time. He was attending school there. Subsequently, they went to Eng- land, where Mother met Father's sisters Doris and Ansie (Second and Third Aunts), who were in a boarding school for girls.
Grandfather's Murder
During Father's visit to Hong Kong, Grandfather got embroiled in what became a court case over the Yue Sing firm's opium licence with the government of Macao. The Yue Sing firm had had the opium monopoly since 1924. A third of the company was owned by the Lee family, and Grandfather was the general manager. In March 1927, the Portuguese government announced in the Boletim Oficial that the
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 23
monopoly system under which opium had been imported, prepared, sold and distributed would come to an end; therefore its contract with the Yue Sing firm would be terminated, to be replaced by a gov- ernment monopoly under the superintendence of the Inspector of Consumption Taxes. It established an Opium Administration and Pedro Jose Lobo was appointed as Administrator. By 1927, a quarter of the original investment of $3 million had been returned to the sub- scribers of Yue Sing, but the winding-up proceedings in the courts in Macao would mean that the rest of the investment would be lost. This was something the subscribers to the firm had to accept.
Then Grandfather discovered that the Macao government had not taken back the licence, but had given it to another company, the Yau Sing Company, for a payment of $120,000. The company opened an account at a branch of the Mercantile Bank of India in Hong Kong, and the comprador of the bank confirmed that the opium monopoly had been obtained by the Yau Sing Company by tender from the gov- ernment of Macao. The Company was opened for subscription. A friend of Grandfather's was approached to buy shares, and he came to Grandfather for advice.
Grandfather believed that since the contract with Yue Sing had been terminated by the Macao government, no other firm should legally be given a new contract by the same government. He sent a petition to the governor of Macao, requesting fair treatment for his firm and for an enquiry into the matter, as well as the return, in due course, of the original deposit by Yue Sing to the Portuguese govern- ment. The petition was also sent to the Legislative Councillors, sixteen lawyers and the Consul-General of Macao. In his petition, the name of Pedro Jose Lobo was implicated.
In the spring of 1928, during the preparation of my parents' wed- ding, Pedro Jose Lobo sued Grandfather for libel and asked the Hong Kong court for an injunction to prevent him from sending further petitions to the governor of Macao. During the period leading up to the trial, Grandfather received letters threatening his life, saying also that bombs would be thrown at my parents' wedding. These letters were ignored by Grandfather even though friends and relatives advised him to be careful and change his routine. 丁 he wedding went
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smoothly, my parents left for Europe, and the threats were forgotten. On April 17, Chief Justice Gollan of the Supreme Court in Hong Kong gave judgment in Grandfather's favour. And Grandfather believed that it was all over.
On April 30, at one o'clock in the afternoon, as Grandfather was entering the Chinese Yue Kee Club on Wellington Street for tiffin, which was his routine, he was shot in the corridor. He called out a couple of times, " gau mefig," meaning save my life, and members at the Club heard the shots and his cries. When a foki (waiter), Law Lau, reached the corridor, he saw Grandfather injured, holding on to the wall, and looking very pale. Instead of stopping to help, he followed a man in white trousers and a short jacket who darted through the passage from the Club. By the time the members of the club reached Grandfather, he was already dead. He was forty-seven years old.
The family offered a reward of $10,000 for information leading to the arrest of the assassin, but despite the police having many leads and some arrests, the murderer was never caught. The entire family was in shock. Grandfather left behind a wife, three concubines, seven sons and six surviving daughters, with daughter number-eight on the way.
My parents and three of Father's siblings were in England when the news reached them. They immediately began their return journey, but travel by boat through the Suez Canal was so slow, they missed the Bud- dhist funeral service. On May 25, Grandfather was buried in a beautiful site overlooking the ocean in the Permanent Cemetery in Aberdeen.
Later, at Lady Clara Hotung s suggestion, a matshed was specially built in The Lee Gardens. Buddhist services were held for seven days to pacify Grandfather's ghost and to raise his soul from suffering in the next world.'
Father as Head of the Family
At the age of twenty-three, Father became the head of the family. Mother, at eighteen, was no longer a student, but his partner. Since Grandmother was illiterate, it was up to Father to make sure the huge family was taken care of. In order to raise money for death duties, he arranged for the sale of many of Grandfather's shares. Father suffered
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 25
insulting experiences, which he never forgot, when some of Grandfa- ther's "friends" refused to open the door when he called on them. One of the exceptions was Arthur Morse, chief accountant of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, to whom he went to borrow money. It was very intimidating for Father, but the kindness and consideration shown to him by Morse made them fast friends for the rest of their lives.
Grandfather had mortgages on many of his properties, the largest of which was East Point Hill (now The Lee Gardens), which was held by Jardine. This meant that if we reneged on the payment, the prop- erty would be repossessed. Father borrowed money from the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank to pay off the mortgage.
Many people approached Grandmother to buy our properties, but with Father's encouragement, she refused to part with any of it. From then on, and for many years, the entire family lived on a tight budget in order to pay off the mortgages on our extensive holdings from the rents collected.
When Grandfather's estate duties were settled, Father remained in Hong Kong, working for the Lee & Orange Architectural firm to complete his practical training. One of his projects was the length- ening of the No. 1 Dock of the Whampoa Dockyard in Kowloon/ Today, in the same location, is a shopping centre in the shape of an ocean liner.
My parents lived in the Big House with Grandmother and the rest of the family. With all the mortgage and loan payments, there was very little money to go around, and Grandmother held the purse strings. While Father was completing his training, he had no income. Mother, at the age of eighteen, found herself trapped in an old-fash- ioned, traditional household which was totally different from her own, and because Father was not earning an independent income, she had no psychological or financial freedom. She began to lose weight and became depressed, so her mother decided to take her to Lushan for a complete change of scenery.
Lushan, in Jiangxi province in the county of Jiujiang, not far from Poyang Lake, is famous for the beauty of its scenery and the wonderful mountain air. It was well known as a spot for patients to recuperate from their illnesses. It used to be (and still is) a retreat for the wealthy,
26 Building Bridges
and spotted along the mountainside were many villas owned by West- erners and wealthy Chinese. Later on, both Chiang Kaishek and Mao Zedong had villas there. Mother called it the Switzerland of China.
At that time, the only way to reach the town at the top of Lushan was by walking or being carried in a sedan chair. Mother told me that she was so thin when they arrived that the chair-coolies fought to carry her up the mountain. However, by the time she came back down, she had gained so much weight, no chair-coolie wanted to carry her. Mother never said how long she stayed, but she slept and ate well until Father went to bring her home.
Work in Guangzhou
When Father finished his practical training with Lee &C Orange in 1931 and became a qualified engineer, he wanted to pursue his pro- fessional career. The various businesses of the Lee family were looked after by employees, and Father felt that it was not necessary for him to remain in Hong Kong as long as he was close by.
丁 he 1930s were the years when the Chinese Republic needed a great deal of help to build a new country. Like many young Chinese at the time, Father was filled with hope for the future, and he want- ed to do his part for China,
Being Cantonese, he went to Guangzhou, also known as Canton, to work in the government of Mayor Liu Jiwan. He occupied differ- ent posts over a number of years. He was Chief Secretary for the city, Chief Engineer, a member of the Department of Water Works, and also an auditor in the Ministry of Audit.
At the beginning, Mother remained living on the third floor of the Big House in Hong Kong while Father worked in Guangzhou. The children in the Lee family were Sixth Uncle, Seventh Uncle, Seventh Aunt, Eighth Aunt and cousin Hon Chiu, son of Second Uncle and the eldest grandson. Hon Chiu remembers that they were always hungry, not only because the family was cash poor, but also because Grandmother was very frugal. They used to visit Mother on Sundays at teatime and she would bake a cake as a treat for them. By that
From Marriage In Hong Kon (； To Work In China 27
time, Father had an independent income, and Mother was no longer cash-strapped. Those were memorable times for the children. Moth- er was the modern and fashionable sister-in-law, and was looked up to by all of Father's siblings. The younger girls who did not have the opportunity to go to England before Grandfather died wanted to have English names, and Mother named them Dione, Joyce and Amy.
When Father was more settled in his post in the Guangzhou gov- ernment, Mother moved there. They lived in Dongshan, which was a pleasant residential area in the suburb of Guangzhou. They had by then become good friends with Mayor Liu Jiwan and his family. They socialized a great deal with government officials, and Mother was expected to keep company with their wives. One day, a group of ladies went to a fortune-teller, who told the officials' wives that their futures were not rosy, but that Mother's was very good. Mother found that embarrassing, being the wife of the most junior person in the hierarchy of the Guangzhou government. The other ladies were very displeased. Of course, at that time, no one foresaw the change of government in China from Nationalist to Communist, when all the government officials became refugees.
My parents commuted to Hong Kong every weekend by train, back to the Big House to see Grandmother and the family. By that time, as the Lee family expanded, many members had moved into the Lee Building, up the hill from the Big House. My parents stayed in the Big House during their weekend visits.
Since Grandmother was the only person in the family with a motor car, in order for the children to go swimming at South Bay, where the family owned a cabin, all the children would go to the Big House after half-day school on Saturdays to have lunch, and wait to see who would take them swimming. It was usually Father or Third Uncle (who had returned from Oxford by then) or Second Aunt. It was a much anticipated outing for the youngsters who enjoyed their after- noon picnic of tea sandwiches at the cabin, and a swim. Cousin Hon Chiu was just learning to swim then, so he mainly played on the beach. After their swim, Father always treated all of them to ice cream sold by a vendor for Dairy Farm. 、
28 Building Bridges
During the years when my parents commuted between Hong Kong and Guangzhou, they had friends who also made the same return trip each week, so the group usually played bridge during the journey.
During this period, Father worked closely with Yuen Menghong, Director of Public Works in Guangzhou. Yuen's cousin Yuen Yao- hong used to tease Father that, as a foreign graduate, he would know only theory, and not anything about the practical side of building. Yuen Yaohong himself first started work in construction as a carpen- ter. However, the two men became good friends, and he became Uncle Yuen to us.
In the mid 1930s, Yuen Yaohong moved to Hong Kong and start- ed to work for the Lee family as the general manager of International Entertainment Enterprises Ltd., the company which leased the Lee Theatre. This company was formed because one of Grandfather's brothers was in the habit of taking money from the till in the theatre, and no employee dared to challenge him. Since he was an elder, Father and his brothers were not in a position to stop him, even though the theatre belonged to them. The employees could then tell Grandfather's brother that the Lee Theatre was leased by another company, which meant he could no longer help himself to the till. From then on, if he needed money, he had to go Lee Hysan Estate Co. or to Lee Tung, the rental office.
When my parents' lives became more settled in Guangzhou, they bought a piece of land in Conghua, where there were natural hot springs. They built a small house on a beautiful hillside. The rest of the land was planted as orchards with many different fruit trees. The house, designed by Father, was built in the typical Chinese style with red walls and a green tiled roof which housed a tank fed by hot spring water. The kitchen was open to the outside. Aside from my parents' bedroom, there were no separate rooms. It was an open concept where all the guests slept on tatamis on the floor.
My parents spent many happy hours there with their siblings, friends and relatives. They often went swimming in a small lake which had a waterfall at one end. One day Mother's sister Jenny swam a lit- tle too close to the fall and almost drowned. The water in Conghua is well known for its medicinal qualities, and Mother's sister Sarah often
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 29
brought her son Jay, who was having skin problems, to bathe in the hot springs.'
The house in Conghua turned out to be such a wonderful country retreat that Mayor Liu Jiwan and many of the officials of Guangdong went there too. Later, the leaders of the Chinese Communist Party also built their villas there. The area became a favourite resort for the well-to-do.
After the Second World War, because of political unrest in China, my parents had no plans to use it any more, so they asked the care- taker, who had been looking after the house and grounds, to move into the house. I met the caretaker when he came to Hong Kong at the end of the 1940s to report the condition of the property to Father, and Father asked him in particular how the fruit trees were doing.
I didn't see this house myself until the late 1980s, when my hus- band, Neville, and I went to Conghua with Mother and her friend Daisy Li. The garden was completely overgrown with weeds, and it was difficult to distinguish the trees. The house was altered and in a terrible state of disrepair. Mother was so disappointed to see it paint- ed white instead of the original red and green. A nondescript house had been built close to it, and a public dining hall was located in the area which used to be set aside for parking their cars. It saddened Mother to see the property in that condition.
Pioneers in Hainan
In 1934 Father left his employment with the Guangzhou govern- ment to do something very different in Hainan Island. Situated between the South China Sea and the Gulf of Tonkin, it is about the same size as the island of Taiwan. Except for the Paracel Islands, which had troops stationed by China, Taiwan and Vietnam, Hainan Island is the most southern territory of China.
Why did an Oxford graduate take his young wife to a backward place like Hainan Island? I never thought to ask Father, but I guess he had a sense of curiosity and of adventure. After all, he was an inquis- itive person all his life. But I think the main reason was his desire to help China, by working in a remote and backward place. He believed
30 Building Bridges
that one person could make a difference even in a country with a pop- ulation of hundreds of millions.
Hainan Island was just beginning to attract the attention of the Chinese government in the 1930s. Minister TV. Soong visited the island and expressed the opinion that it should be developed. Indus- trialists and educators began to realize the economic importance of the area known as the "larder of China," where rice crops can be har- vested up to three times a year. It was also known as "the paradise of China" because flowers bloom year round and delicious fruits and magnificent trees grow everywhere. Ancient Indian writers referred to Hainan as "The Island of Palms" because at least six types of palm grow luxuriantly on the island, producing considerable income. On this tropical island, the sun is so intense during the day that people cannot go out without hats or umbrellas. The humidity is usually high. In summer, the temperature goes up to as high as 98°F, and in winter, drops to 45"F. However, along the mountain range, Limu Ling, that runs through the middle of the island, the temperature is always cool.
Hainan became known to the Chinese at the time of the first emperor, Qin Shihuangdi (245-210 B.C.). The island, inhabited by aborigines known as the Li tribe, attracted about 23,000 Chinese colonists from the mainland during the Early Han Dynasty (206 B.C.-A.D. 24.) By the end of the Later Han Dynasty (A.D.25-219), the entire island was subjugated and the Li tribes were pushed into the centre of the island. 丁 he name Hainan, meaning "south of the sea," came from the Yuan Dynasty.
In 1921, the island officially became part of Guangdong province. By the late 1920s, there were already more than two million Chinese living on the island. Chinese settlements were founded along the northern part of the island, where close contact could be maintained with the mainland. Haikou, the major city, was located at the north- ern tip of the island and was not only the home of the governor but also the headquarters of the Garrison Commander/
Hainan Island was known as Qiongya province to the Chinese government. In the 1920s, the Chinese government started to build highways in order to open up the island for development. Besides
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 31
shops, restaurants, hotels and banks that catered to the population, there were some Chinese investments, mainly in rubber and sugar cane plantations. Some of these companies were later abandoned because of problems with bandits in the area. - In the 1930s, it was divided into thirteen counties, two of which were exclusively inhab- ited by Chinese. The Li tribe and the Chinese lived in separate communities even if they were geographically in the same areas.^
丁 he Li aborigines physically and culturally resemble the Tai people who lived in Thailand, Burma, Yunnan province in China and Indo- China. They are stout, of medium stature, with yellowish-brown skin, straight black hair and dark brown eyes. Their facial features are quite different from those of the Chinese. (For centuries, Chinese scholars referred to them as the tattooed race of the south who knew no civi- lization.) The women are tattooed (in a practice known as tantan), apparently to make it easier to identify their own descendants. They have their own native costumes, but in the summer, the adult males usually wear only loin cloths and turbans. In the 1930s, they lived on hunting and farming.
Since Father wanted to help open up a primitive part of China for agriculture and trade, he and Mother moved to Hainan to work as pioneers in ranching, with the idea of selling cattle to Europe. The weather and the topography in parts of Hainan are known to be good for cattle farming."' He bought land "as far as the eye can see," according to the description in his land deed, and imported the best cattle from Europe for breeding.
Being adventurous, Father crossed the island through the Limu Ling mountains to the area known as the Li Country, where the abo- rigines lived. He was warned by the local Chinese not to go into the interior because of the danger of malaria and other diseases; nine out of ten people who went in, did not come out alive. Father had faith in modern science, and believed that as long as he had quinine and other medicines with him, he would be all right. And he was.
While in Hainan, Father also became a plantation owner, growing flax and sugar cane. In 1936, Father, together with other investors, bought Bao Cheng Company. Bao Cheng, which had been established in 1928 by two partners, owned 5,000 acres where flax was grown
32 Building Bridges
as a cash crop. The cost to produce a ton of processed flax was seven pounds sterling, but it could fetch thirty pounds in the London mar- ket. It was a profitable business, but again, due to bandits in the area, the company closed between 1930-1931."
After Father's group bought the company, he renamed it Lee Hing Plantation Company, and later changed the name to Lee Hing Agri- cultural Company Ltd. The company was situated on the north coast of Hainan near Ling Gao county (west of Haikou). The size of the farm was increased to 15,000 acres, growing flax and sugar cane. By January 1937, more land was purchased, and the size was increased to 20,000 acres. The company was well established with its own flax- processing machines and storage buildings, forty-five horse-power generators, gasoline storage, a garage for cars, an office building and residences for workers.
My parents brought Second Uncle with them, as well as a young man named Leung Kwong Wing, who continued to be in the employ of the Lee family, eventually becoming one of our gardeners in the Big House. Men from the Li tribe were hired to clear the land and look after the cattle.
In the mountain streams in Limu Ling were gold nuggets, which the Li collected for use as jewellery, or for barter with outsiders. Father told me that he bartered with them using glass beads, mirrors and soap. They were fascinated by seeing themselves in the mirrors. They loved making soap suds in the river. Glass beads were a lot more colourful than gold nuggets.
Father had firearms for hunting, and perhaps also for protection against bandits, but issued strict instructions that guns were not to be given to or even handled by the Li aborigines. One day, he was beside himself when he found out that Second Uncle had used some of the guns for bartering with the aborigines.
Father used to say that because Hainan Island was so far out of the way one could always come across something unusual on the island and in its waters. One day, while my parents were at the coast, a fish- ing boat came back to shore dragging a garouper ten feet long. There was great astonishment because no one had ever seen a garouper that large before. The entire village, my parents and their entourage
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 33
included, celebrated with a meal from that one fish. We were very impressed by this story.
Father often went hunting for wild boars. It was a dangerous sport because the boars, if wounded, would charge at the hunter. Some- times Mother would go along, riding a small horse. She was not a good rider, and was frightened whenever the horse jumped at the sound of gunfire. However, riding was necessary because it was the only way to travel in the interior.
My parents lived the lives of pioneers, hunting and growing their own food. Since there was no electricity, Father built his own gener- ators with wind power." My parents made friends there, mostly with other pioneers and missionaries, and with some of the local village headmen. They would sometimes go into town and stay in small hotels and meet their friends, and at times they took visitors to vari- ous parts of the island. They both loved living there. Tanned by the strong tropical sun, Father became almost as dark as the Li people. He often talked about Hainan Island with nostalgia, because it was a part of his life that he treasured but something that could never be repeated. The best souvenirs he had from Hainan were mango forks and knives which he had designed and crafted there, and which I still use and treasure.
But important events were happening elsewhere. On July 7, 1937, Japanese and Chinese troops collided at the Marco Polo bridge in the Lugouqiao region near Beijing. It was the beginning of the undeclared Sino-Japanese war. Father felt it was time for him to go back to main- land China to help. Mother told me, "Even if China had not been at war, when the war broke out in Europe in 1939, it would not have been possible to ship cattle or agricultural products there anyway."
Return to Hong Kong
At the end of 1937, my parents moved back to Hong Kong and Father again commuted to China, this time to help the Nationalist government. Mother began to feel unwell, and a visit to the doctor confirmed that she was pregnant. In February 1938, ten years after their wedding, my eldest brother, Richard, was born.
34 Building Bridges
Father thought the return to Hong Kong was just an interruption from his life in Hainan. He had left the plantations in the care of oth- ers, not realizing that future events would prevent him from going back, and that eventually all the land would be repossessed by the Chinese government. Although Mother told me that the land deed was kept in her safe deposit box, we couldn't find it after she passed away.
During the 1930s, the Central Chinese government under Chiang Kaishek enjoyed the support of many well-educated, highly qualified persons with high ideals about building a new and progressive China." With the Japanese invasion of Manchuria in 1931, and the subsequent Marco Polo bridge incident in 1937, China's problems became urgent. In Hong Kong, a group of brilliant engineers gathered to discuss the rebuilding of China after the war and in 1938, the Chi- nese Institute of Engineers, Hong Kong Chapter, was established. The membership was restricted to qualified engineers who had more than seven years of practical experience. The first president was Huang Boqiao'5 who was Director of the Jinghu Railroad Bureau, and Father was the vice-president. As a young man, Ching Tong (C.T.) Wu was hired as secretary for the Institute, and that was how he and Father first met. He became a lifelong friend and confidant, and an impor- tant source for this book.
In 1938, Japan invaded south China, and in October, Guangzhou was occupied by the Japanese. Father commuted between mainland China and Hong Kong frequently during the years before the fall of Hong Kong. He was involved not only as an engineer, but also in many other aspects in the war effort against the Japanese. He was an advisor and the purchasing manager for the China Tea Company, which was one of the most important branches under the Finance Ministry of the Chinese Central government. A large proportion of the country's foreign exchange income came from the sale of tea.「 In later years, Mother explained to me the importance of selling Chinese tea for foreign exchange in order to buy equipment for the defence of China against the Japanese invasion. The head office of the China Tea Company was in Chongqing, and Father frequently commuted there from Hong Kong.
From Marriage In Hong Kong To Work In China 35
Father was also asked by the Chinese government to look after the distribution of sea salt."* In certain parts of the interior of China, the local population lacked iodine in their diet and goitre was prevalent. It was, therefore, important to make sea salt available to them. I remember the adults talking about this problem during the war, and in the interior of China we saw people suffering from goitre.
In October 1939, Mother gave birth to my older sister, Deanna.
Father's enthusiasm and reputation got him elected in 1940 as president of the Institute of Chinese Engineers, Hong Kong Chapter. His connections in Hong Kong made it possible for him to arrange visits for the engineers to various companies and factories, because he was trusted not to allow any stealing of trade secrets. An example was the Tian Chu Weijing factory (The Heavenly Kitchen Mono- sodium Glutamate Factory), owned by Wu Yunchu. At that time, monosodium glutamate was mostly manufactured in Japan, Under normal circumstances, Wu would never allow visitors to his factory, but Father was able to organize a tour for the engineers." Dinners for the Institute were always held at the Big House. C.T. Wu said he was at times mistaken for one of the members because he was dressed in a suit and following Father around.
As the secretary of the Chinese Institute of Engineers, C.T. Wu made thirty dollars a month. Father took a liking to him and promised to find him a higher paying job. At the beginning of 1941, Father called up his friend Zhu Baiying, who was head of the research department of the China Tea Company, to recommend that he hire C.T. Wu. Even as a clerk, Wu's salary tripled. Wu's mother declared that he could get married since he was making so much money?
3
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese
The Japanese invasion of China began in 1937, and between 1937 and 1941 the population of Hong Kong increased from 700,000 to 1.5 million as refugees flooded in. Horrible tales of mas- sacre, rape and starvation circulated in the colony, but Britain was powerless against Japanese military might. Since it could not count on the help of the Americans, it tried to placate the Japanese govern- ment in the hope of avoiding war. 丁 he more virulent anti-Japanese literature in Hong Kong was censored by the colonial government/ The British government misjudged the importance of Hong Kong to Japan as a centre for the movement of troops and war materials, and British military intelligence was unaware of troop preparations across the Chinese border and of Japanese spies who infiltrated Hong Kong.
Under the command of Major-General Takeo Ito, Japanese Intelli- gence officers worked in Hong Kong as bartenders, barbers, masseurs and waiters in establishments frequented by the British military, offer- ing cold beers, exotic food, accommodating women, generous credit facilities, and listening to their conversations. In fact, the best men's hairdresser in Hong Kong, who over a seven-year period cut the hair
36
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 37
of two successive governors, generals, the Commissioner of Police, the officer in charge of Special Branch and the chairman of the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank, presented himself to his employer after the capitulation of Hong Kong on Christmas Day 1941, in the uniform of a Commander of the Imperial Japanese Navy,
After the fall of Guangzhou in October 1938, the Japanese amassed troops north of the Hong Kong border. The 38th Army was training daily at Baiyunshan in Guangzhou, which had the same topography as the area at Gin Drinker's Line, in the southern part of the New Territories. Nightly, they prepared for a border attack on Hong Kong from Shenzhen."
Defence of Hong Kong
In 1939, while the Second World War was raging in Europe, the War Office in London was well aware of the military deficiencies in Hong Kong, but the Colony was regarded as expendable and in fact, militar- ily indefensible. When Lord Hastings Ismay, Prime Minister Winston Churchill's Chief of Staff, proposed at the War Office conference to demilitarize Hong Kong, he was accused of being a defeatist. Sir Geof- frey Northcote, Governor of Hong Kong, believed that Lord Ismay was a realist and wrote to Whitehall in October 1940 to urge the with- drawal of the British garrison "in order to avoid the slaughter of civilians and the destruction of property that would follow a Japanese attack. "4 No one listened. Besides, Northcote was about to retire due to ill health, and would be replaced by Sir Mark Young.
Both Whitehall and many Hong Kong residents wanted to believe Major- General Edward Grasett, the Toronto-born commander of the British troops in Hong Kong, who did not believe that the Japanese would declare war on the British or the Americans. However, he still felt that the garrison in Hong Kong should be reinforced, but his request was denied by the War Office. In 1941, Air Chief Marshall Sir Robert Brooke- Popham, Commander-in-Chief of the Far East, believing that Hong Kong could endure a siege of six months or
38 Building Bridges
more, requested an increase in the garrison. He too was denied because Churchill believed that there was not the slightest chance of holding Hong Kong.
In the meantime, Major- General Grasett continued to campaign for reinforcements even after he knew of Churchill's decision. When he retired from the Hong Kong command in July 1941, he stopped off in Ottawa en route to England, where he met with Canada's Chief of General Staff, H.D.G. (Harry) Crerar, his old schoolmate. They discussed how long Hong Kong could withstand an extended siege if it had an addition of one or two battalions. He did not suggest to Crerar that Canada should supply the manpower, but he did make that proposal to the British Chiefs of Staff.;
So the defence of Hong Kong was dealt with half-heartedly. A sin- gle RAF squadron was diverted to Malaya, leaving five obsolete fighters as Hong Kong's air defence. Sea defence depended on the H.M.S. Prince of Wales and the H.M.S. Repulse, which were sup- posed to come from the South Seas to relieve Hong Kong when necessary. It was also assumed that the U.S. Pacific Fleet in Pearl Har- bor would be able to contain the Japanese in the event of a major conflict. On land, the defence of the Colony depended entirely on a garrison of 11,000 regular British and Indian troops, and a citizen force of 1,387 Hong Kong Volunteers. Batteries were put on the island of Hong Kong at the entrances to the harbour. Gin Drinker's Line was to be the first line of defence. Tunnels and bomb shelters were built all over the city in preparation for an attack.
The population of Hong Kong did have drills in case of a bombing attack, and students in middle schools were given uniforms and trained as air raid wardens.' As the news became more alarming, black-out practices became more frequent. Young civilian men were asked to join the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Corps. Among them was Bill Poy, who was married to Mother's cousin Ethel Lam, and who later became my father-in-law. However, the reality of war was not taken too seriously, because, as Poy told me, it was considered "fun for young men to be with their friends in a motorcycle squadron." Some actually joined because they would be given motor- cycles/ Poy owned his own motorcycle at the time and he used to
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 39
take my future husband, Neville, on it to go to school at Ling Ying, at the top of The Lee Gardens. Poy, an Australian-born Chinese, was working for the Canadian Trade Commissioner in Hong Kong.
No one wanted to believe that Hong Kong would be attacked, even with the appearance of many refugees in the Colony. Overnight, Hong Kong became the cultural capital of the Chinese world because of the arrival of refugee artists, scholars and writers. The economy boomed when the population tripled, and a thriving smuggling trade with inland China, across Japanese-controlled territories, was mak- ing some people very rich. Manufacturing in the colony flourished.
In May 1941, in the midst of all this, I was born.
In July 1941, all Japanese assets in Hong Kong were frozen, fol- lowing similar action in Britain and the United States. However, Britain still did not believe Japan would invade Hong Kong, and Japanese nationals in the Colony were not kept under close surveil- lance. When Colonel Suzuki, a Japanese intelligence officer, was exposed by a British agent, the Foreign Office did not expel him from Hong Kong because Britain and Japan were not at war. When he departed of his own accord at the end of November, barely two weeks before Japan attacked Hong Kong, he had with him the com- plete details of the British defence plan.
On September 19, 1941, the Dominions Office in London dis- patched a secret telegram to William Lyon Mackenzie King's government, asking Canada to provide one or two battalions for the defence of Hong Kong.- On November 19, the population of Hong Kong welcomed the arrival of the two Canadian battalions. However, no one knew that the troops had no battle training, and no knowledge of the Colony or of local transportation. The information about these matters had been sent to Australia by mistake.
Life in our family went on as usual. No one was considering leav- ing the colony since conditions in China were much more serious. It was at this time that Father met Liao Chengzhi,") Secretary of the South China Bureau of the Chinese Communist Party Central Com- mittee, and they became good friends. Liao was engaged in activities in Guangdong and Hong Kong until the fall of Guangzhou in 1938, when he escaped to Hong Kong. There he organized forces to send to
40 Building Bridges
Huipo, which became the progenitor of the East River Detachment, an anti-Japanese guerrilla force in South China and Hong Kong. Father and Liao tried to negotiate with the British government to pro- vide ammunition for the Hong Kong-Kowloon Brigade guerrillas to help to defend the island against the Japanese, but the talks failed because the British did not want ammunitions to fall into the hands of the pro-Communist guerrillas."
The two men, along with an English friend, planned the sabotage of the electric plant in expectation of a Japanese invasion, but the Japanese attack took everyone by surprise.'-
The one thing the Lee family did in preparation for a Japanese attack was to stockpile rice in the Big House. Some people in the Wan Chai district, just below us, knew of our rice reserve and this result- ed in looting during and after the Japanese invasion.
On the evening of December 6, 1941, Governor Sir Mark Young attended a charity ball at the Peninsular Hotel. The following day, Sunday, at midday, the mobilization call went out and a state of emer- gency was announced over the radio. Many who heard it thought it was just another preparedness test. Bill Poy reported for duty, but he told me that many volunteers did not when they realized that there was real danger of war, Poy and Willy Eu, the son of Eu Tongsan, a very wealthy gentleman in Hong Kong, reported to Kowloon Rail- way station because they were attached to the Field Engineers. They had to mobilize to blow up roads and bridges in the New Territories in predetermined areas in case of an invasion. That day, Mother's youngest sister, Jenny, was preparing for her wedding scheduled for the following day. She and her husband were to sign the register in the City Hall in Hong Kong, and the wedding and reception were to take place in Kowloon.
The Battle of Hong Kong
At eight-thirty on Monday morning, December 8, my future hus- band, Neville, who was in Grade One at the time, was told not to go to school. He went to the rooftop with one of his family's servants to
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 41
take down the dry laundry, and they saw planes in the sky. Just as someone said, "It's only another practice," bombs started falling on the urban area of Kowloon and on Kai Tak airport.
My Aunt Jenny and her husband had just gone to the City Hall to register. That was the end of the wedding since they could not get back to Kowloon for the ceremony. Until her husband's death, Aunt Jenny wondered whether their marriage was legal since there were no witnesses, and the ceremony never took place.
Grandparents Wong were living in Shouson Hill Road in Aberdeen at that time, next door to their good friend, Sir Shou Son Chau. The British military commandeered their house because it was in a strate- gic position and they were told to leave within four hours. With no time to pack anything, they came to stay with us.
The bombs on Kai Tak destroyed the five old fighter planes. With- in a few hours, the people of Hong Kong heard about the destruction by the Japanese of the U.S. Fleet in Pearl Harbor, of the first bombs on Manila and Singapore, and of the sinking of the H.M.S. Prince of Wales and H.M.S. Repulse."
The Big House was hit by shrapnel, and a bomb created a huge hole on one side of the Lee Building. We were very easy targets because we were so high up on the hill. Members of the Lee family gathered their essentials and moved to the backstage area of the Lee Theatre. We were grateful to Grandfather for building the theatre as strong as a fortress so that his descendants could use it in times of war. Along with our Wong Grandparents, we moved into the rooms behind the backstage area which also had a kitchen. We were crowd- ed, but safe. We were not able to bring enough rice, so we had to make do with congee, a type of gruel. The older children were given crispy rice to ease their hunger between meals. As a seven-month-old baby, I immediately started getting sick and could not drink the pow- dered milk my mother brought along. Mother blamed it on the lack of clean water, because we used well water at the Lee Theatre. From then on until the end of the war, my health was poor.
During the period of fighting, whenever there was an air-raid sig- nal, everyone would go to the bomb shelters. The one near the Lee
42 Building Bridges
Theatre was at Leighton Road. During one of the bombing raids, Grandfather Wong did not enter the shelter fast enough and was hit on his shoulders by shrapnel.
Once the Japanese took control of Kowloon, artillery was sta- tioned along the waterfront facing Hong Kong. Mother's younger sister Josephine's home in Tsim Sha Tsui was commandeered by the Japanese for that purpose.
At the Queen Mary Hospital, Joseph Tarn was a nurse in training on his early morning shift that started at 6 o'clock. The moment the bombs started to drop, all in-patients were discharged to make room for war casualties. Those who still needed care were transferred to St. Stephen's Girls' College, which was converted into a relief hospital with camp beds set up for the patients. Female nurses were sent home, with the exception of those who wished to stay, and the male nurses took on most of the responsibility. By afternoon, many injured soldiers were brought in. Tarn, as a nurse-in-training, had to look after twenty-four patients, most of whom were Canadians. Some of the doctors left for China and some were conscripted to stay to help in Hong Kong, Two of the Chinese doctors Tarn worked with were Sik Nin Chau and Han Suyin." Many of the Irish doctors stayed, because Ireland was a neutral country"
丁 he doctors' offices and the nursing school at the Queen Mary Hospital were converted into dormitories and some government offi- cials moved in. Among them were Governor Sir Mark Young. Father T.F. Ryan, leader of the Irish Jesuit priests in Hong Kong, and some professors of Hong Kong University also stayed in the hospital."
On December 10, 1941, at three o'clock in the morning, there was a loud banging on the door at villager Chung Poon's house in Wong Chuk Shan in the New Territories. Thinking that it might be bandits, he approached the door with a knife in his hand. He opened the door to find several guns pointing at him. For Chung and the rest of the population in Sai Kung, in the New Territories, the occupation had begun. Two days earlier, the Japanese army had overrun Tai Po and Shatin, and the day before had taken Shingmun Redoubt, which was part of Gin Drinker's Line. British forces were withdrawing from the New Territories to the island of Hong Kong, and a contingent of
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 43
Sepoy soldiers were covering the retreat at Devil's Peak. The Japan- ese soldiers had come over from Shap Sze Heung, intending to find their way to Kowloon, and had probably strayed into the village of Wong Chuk Shan by mistake. The soldiers were knocking at every door to force villagers to act as their porters. On December 11， the Japanese cavalry passed the Sai Kung Market. There was no distur- bance or fighting, since the police had been withdrawn before the Japanese arrived. The villagers just stayed indoors.
The British defensive positions on the New Territories and Kowloon had been prepared with a view to a delaying action that would allow consolidation on the island of Hong Kong. However, within forty-eight hours, the Japanese had broken this defence line, capturing the Jubilee Redoubt at Shing Mun Dam. (Jubilee Redoubt on Gin Drinker's Line overlooked the Sing Mun Dam of the Jubilee Reservoir, just north of the range of hills separating Kowloon from the New Territories.) The Volunteers retreated to the island of Hong Kong and reported to Headquarters. The Japanese fired mortars at the British defences, but there was no bombing. By December 12, enemy guns were lined up along the Kowloon wharves. At nine o'clock the next morning, a Japanese staff officer crossed to Victoria Pier in a launch bearing a flag of truce, and presented to Governor Mark Young a demand for the surrender of the Colony, under threat of heavy artillery and bombardment from the air. The Governor rejected the offer and the blitz began.
During the night of December 18 to 19, the Japanese landed at three different points on the island 一 North Point, Braemar Point and Shau Kei Wan ― cutting the island into eastern and western halves. The Japanese who landed in North Point took over the elec- trical generating station which was guarded by civilian volunteers, a group of older men, all of whom were killed" The Japanese troops crossed the island and there was a great deal of fighting towards Repulse Bay and Stanley. Bill Poy saw a Canadian general killed in a bunker in Wong Nai Chung Gap while he was delivering messages between Headquarters and the troops. On December 21, the gover- nor was given further instructions from Churchill that "there must be no thought of surrender."'^
44 Building Bridges
Father was in Chongqing, China, when the Japanese invaded Hong Kong. He immediately flew back on one of the China Tea Company planes and had actually reached Hong Kong air space but the plane could not land. It was diverted to Huizhou. It was fortunate for Father, for he used to tell us that if he had been there and had been captured by the Japanese troops, he would have been executed because of his involvement in the resistance movement.
By Christmas Eve, the British and Canadian troops had retreated to the Peak because they believed the Japanese had taken over the Gap. Bill Poy was sent to take a look, but didn't see anyone, so the troops moved back into the Gap. By then, news had come to the troops that negotiations were in progress with the Japanese who had occupied half of the island. They had not yet moved into the city of Victoria.
Under Japanese Occupation
On Christmas Day 1941, at 6:30 in the evening, Governor Sir Mark Young surrendered to the Japanese. He was removed to the Peninsular Hotel, and subsequently to Taiwan and then to Mukden (both under Japanese rule at the time). The survivors of the garrison and the non-Chinese members of the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Corps, were sent to POW camps 一 North Point, Shum Shui Po, Argyle Street and Ma Tao Chung. Many of the POWs were shipped to labour camps in Japan and other Japanese-occupied territories. The Chinese Hong Kong Volunteers were given permission to take off their uniforms and return home. The internment of civilians classified as enemies at Stanley camp was a slower process, and they remained there until the end of the war. There were many stories of heroism, treachery, great suffering and survival during these times.
When Bill Poy heard of the surrender, and before orders were given, he asked the senior officer what they, the Volunteers, were sup- posed to do, and he was told to wait for instructions from the Japanese. Poy said, "I'm not going to wait, I must join my wife and children." He then turned to Willy Eu and said, "Let's go!" They went to the Portuguese Volunteers Unit, where they left their revolvers and their motorcycles. They changed out of their uniforms
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 45
into Chinese clothes which they always carried with them, just in case, and walked to Eu Yan Sang, a Chinese medicine shop owned by Willy's father, Eu Tongsan. From there, they phoned Willy's mother at Euston on Bonham Road, one of the Eu castle-style homes in Hong Kong. She told them everything was all right, and that the Japanese had allowed them to stay. That night, Poy and Eu could hear the Japanese troops moving in and cordoning off the city.
The next day, Poy and Eu decided to go up to Euston, but when they looked out of the medicine shop they saw a Japanese sentry post- ed almost outside the door. In order to look as casual as possible, they went outside, chewing on Chinese dried plums. The next thing Poy knew, he'd been hit on the head. He didn't know that he had to bow to all Japanese soldiers. They made their way to Euston bowing all the way.
The rest of the Poy family was at home in Happy Valley. Neville was very sad that, because of the lack of food, they had to let Snow White, their Borzoi (Russian wolfhound), go. It was probably caught and eaten the moment it was let out of their sight.
For a period, there was total chaos, because the Japanese soldiers, some of whom were Taiwanese, were given a free hand to rob, rape and murder. The soldiers went from house to house looking for "flower maidens," and young women hid wherever they could. They put mud and ashes on their faces and wore tattered clothes to avoid being raped. As in all wars, there was tremendous suffering. Some were luckier than others. The entire population was gripped with fear.
The following day, the cook at Euston returned home late and was scolded by Willy Eu's mother. He said the Japanese had stopped him to do some work for them and given him a card with which he could go anywhere. The next day, Bill Poy borrowed the card which gave the name and the age of the cook, who happened to be approxi- mately the same age as himself. He used it to pass all the sentries to get to Blue Pool Road in Happy Valley where his family was. When he arrived, he found out that there had been rapes and atrocities in their apartment building. A few people were killed and Tang Siu Kin of the Kowloon Bus Company, a well-known person in Hong Kong, had been stabbed many times by Japanese soldiers. Tang had gone
46 Building Bridges
there because a fortune-teller had told him that it would be a safe place to be.
Fortunately, when the Japanese soldiers came, Ethel Poy had her mother with her. She hid in the cupboard with blankets over her, while her mother took Neville and his sister, Adrienne, and sat on the floor in front of the cupboard. Her mother told the soldiers that they were alone. It was a very close call. After the Japanese soldiers left, Ethel and her mother took the children to join her brother David and his wife, Connie, downtown. The servants in the apartment told Bill Poy where they had gone.
After he found his family, Poy told his wife that he had to return to their apartment, to retrieve three diamonds which he had hidden in one of the legs of their sideboard. He used the Eu's cook's ID card again. On his way, he was stopped by a sentry, but he was able to explain, with his few words of Japanese learnt as a youth in Manchuria, that he need- ed to go home to fetch clothes for his children. As he was approaching their apartment, he saw their dining table on the street for sale.
When he entered the apartment with a Japanese sentry, he saw clothes strewn everywhere, some of which had been used as toilet paper. The sideboard was still there, but he had to get rid of the sen- try. Fortunately, the sentry was called away for a few minutes, and Poy got the diamonds out just in time before he returned. "You've never seen anyone working so fast with a screw driver!" Poy told me. The sentry then asked him, "Are you twenty-six?" That was the age on the ID card. If the question had been, "How old are you?" he would have been in grave trouble because he had forgotten to check the cook's age on the card.
Bill Poy returned to his family downtown. He wanted to take them up to Euston, but by then it was dark and there was a curfew. Ethel said, "You go and return with help tomorrow morning."
The next morning Bill and one of the Eu's servants found the apart- ment empty. The walls were covered with bullet holes and smeared with blood. His neighbours told him his wife and children were hid- ing under the stairwell. He found Neville holding a flask, and Ethel had Adrienne on her back, with biscuits in her hands, Ethel's mother,
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 47
David and Connie had already left but Ethel and her children had waited for Bill.
Apparently, after Bill left, Japanese soldiers had come to the build- ing to look for young women. Ethel's mother put Ethel and Connie in the cupboard and put a blanket over them. She and David put a mattress on the floor, and lay down with Neville and Adrienne, in front of the cupboard. Two Japanese soldiers came into their apart- ment with flashlights (there was no electricity), and fortunately, just in the nick of time, the Kempeitai (Japanese Military Police) came in and told the soldiers to leave.
With the servant carrying Adrienne, Bill, Ethel and Neville walked to Wan Chai, where they saw a big street parade with Japanese on white horses, and soldiers carrying their dead comrades in boxes. They passed a small family restaurant and went in to get something to eat. They bought a chicken for one hundred dollars, and ate it while waiting for the parade to pass. They then headed to Euston, where there was no sign of war, and there was food. When Neville went to bed that night, he asked if he could stay there forever?
The Japanese army took over the Queen Mary Hospital and every- one was told to go except the mechanic Ah Law, who was needed to operate the hospital steam room and the big stove. Everything, including all the medicine, was discarded, and replaced by shipments from Japan. After some months, Ah Law was dismissed?'
Some of the staff of the Queen Mary Hospital served in the relief hos- pital that had been set up at St. Stephen's Girls' College. St. Stephen's remained a hospital for close to five years and admitted only Chinese Hong Kong citizens. A small classroom was converted for minor surgery and dressings. There were Chinese and Irish doctors, such as Dr. G.E. Griffiths. Dr. K.D. Ling and Dr. Raymond Lee. Most of the British nursing sisters and the doctors were, by then, interned, with the exception of Dr. Selwyn Selwyn- Clarke," who continued to serve as Director of Medical Services. In that capacity, he was able to help many of the citizens of Hong Kong during the occupation. Joseph Tarn and other medical staff were given notes by Dr. Selwyn-Clarke so that they would get employment with the British, should they get to Free China.-'
48 Building Bridges
丁 he Hong Kong-based research department of the China Tea Company was closed. The Chinese Finance Ministry gave instruc- tions that the money in the company in Hong Kong was to be distributed to all the employees and each received the equivalent of four months' salary. C.T. Wu volunteered to help withdraw the money from the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank for the company, and in the distribution of the cash, took his share in ten-dollar bills, because he felt they would be much more acceptable than the larger bills in times of war. He was right, because later the Japanese banned the use of notes larger than ten dollars. With this money he went into China as a refugee.
Two days after the Poys arrived in Euston, Bill Poy went downtown to Pedder Street. He passed a French jewellery shop that he sometimes visited with Eu Tongsan, Willy's father. The shop was flying a Vichy flag (a sign of neutrality). Poy had an idea. He knew the Japanese wanted watches and so asked the owner, Mr. Walsh, if he would trust him to sell some watches to the Japanese for him. Mr. Walsh gave him ten of the ones that were more difficult to sell, and a couple of the lower line of Rolexes. Poy went straight to the headquarters of the Kempeitai where he saw sacks of flour and rice, as well as cigarettes and whisky. When the sergeant in charge asked how much the Rolex was, Poy told him, "For you, it's free." The sergeant then offered Poy goods from the sta- tion and Poy asked for a sack of flour, cigarettes, whisky and some rice. The sergeant not only gave these items to him, but had them delivered to Euston. However, the flour was found to be full of weevils. When Poy told the sergeant, he asked Poy if he could sell the remaining sacks of flour for him. Poy went to a Chinese friend who in turn sold these to the Japanese. For each sack, the sergeant got forty yen and Poy kept sixty yen. From then on, if the Japanese wanted to buy anything, Poy would go and look for them. At that time, one Japanese yen was equivalent to two Hong Kong dollars, and it was useful to have some Japanese money.
By hanging around the Kempeitai headquarters, Poy was able to help his friends get supplies such as rice and flour. Within a short time, he became friendly with more members of the Kempeitai, who visited them in Euston and sometimes brought rice. Since the Kem- peitai had control of Hong Kong, the family did not suffer. Neville,
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To Thk Japanese 49
only six then, remembers that the sergeant of the Kempeitai was very nice to him and Adrienne, who was three. Neville, being musical, was often asked to perform for the Japanese when they visited them. However, to his parents' great concern, he liked to sing Qi Lai, a Chi- nese revolutionary song that schoolchildren used to sing at assembly in school every morning, and to play Colonel Bogey on the piano. His parents had to stop him whenever he wanted to perform these pieces when the Kempeitai were around. For the rest of her life, his mother never lost her fear of or dislike for the Japanese.
Japan not only needed Hong Kong as a naval base, but also con- sidered it as a source of income and of material wealth. Anything that could be of use in Japan was confiscated, including cars, building materials and machinery, and shipped to Japan. The Japanese helped themselves to whatever they liked. Aunt Jenny's family car was taken by the Japanese, but they were fortunate that the soldiers gave them a bag of rice in exchange. The soldiers even took their pet monkey. Hong Kong harbour was filled with heavily loaded outgoing cargo ships. Few armaments left by the British were taken by the Japanese because the guerrillas as well as the local population got there first. Some of these were smuggled into China. There was a thriving mar- ket of British armaments between December 10 and December 31， 1941, in the Kowloon City area. The buyers were Hong Kong peo- ple, Sai Kung villagers, as well as the guerrillas.
The Chinese Guerrillas
After the British surrender, the Lee family members left the Lee Theatre and went home. Mother and the three of us went to live in the Lee Building with many other members of the family. The Big House had been looted and there were many dead bodies lying around because the Japanese soldiers shot looters on sight. It was a very difficult time for Mother, being so young and with three small children. What she didn't know was that she was looked after by "agents" sent by Father, since he could not be there himself.
The "agents" were Chinese guerrillas or guerrilla sympathizers. Few people in Hong Kong knew that Chinese guerrillas and agents of
50 Building Bridges
various political factions had infiltrated into the New Territories by the beginning of 1941. There were official guerrillas who were paid and armed by the Nationalist government under Chiang Kaishek. However, the most active guerrilla group in Hong Kong after the British surrender on Christmas Day 1941 was that of the Hong Kong-Kowloon Brigade, a subdivision of the East River Detachment, the foundation of which was laid by Liao Chengzhi in Hong Kong after the fall of Guangzhou. The Detachment went officially under the Communist banner in December 1943, when the name changed to the Guangdong People's Anti-Japanese Guerrilla Corps.
The Chinese guerrillas in the Colony had a network for intelligence, communications and sabotage. During the initial stage of the occupa- tion, guerrillas of different political stripes were busy smuggling important Chinese and Allied nationals out of Hong Kong. One of the first was Liao Chengzhi, who escaped on January 5, 1942, Within the first seven months of occupation, more than three hundred important Chinese nationals were rescued. Among the more well-known names were: He Xiangning, Liu Yazi, Zhou Taofen, Mao Dun, Qiao Guanhua, Sa Kongliao, Liang Shuming, Hu Die, the famous movie star, and Shang-Guan Xiande, the wife of Yu Hanmou, Commander of the Sev- enth War Zone of the Central Chinese Army.-- Admiral Chen Ce, the chief Nationalist intelligence agent in Hong Kong who liaised with the British, made an escape on his own. Escapees from POW camps were assisted by the guerrillas and guerrilla sympathizers, who took them across the water by sampan or overland through mountain paths. The guerrillas worked with the villagers in the New Territories to hide and feed escapees, and lead them into Free China. Children as young as nine years old were recruited into the guerrilla camp to help as runners and as spies. They were called Siugui (Little Devils).
The first plans for escape from a POW camp were made in Shum Shui Po in January 1942 by Lt.-Col. Lindsay T. Ride, of the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Corps Field Ambulance, and Lance-Corporal Francis Lee Yiu Piu, who had originally been with No. 3 Machine Gun Company of the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Corps, but who trans- ferred to Field Ambulance to be with Ride. Ride was an Australian doctor and teacher who was appointed to the Chair of Physiology at
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 51
the University of Hong Kong in 1928. He had served in the First World War and was twice wounded in France. Lee, a slim, bespectacled and shy clerk, worked in the Physiology department and had earned respect and admiration from Ride for his hard work. Lec was not supposed to be in Shum Shui P() camp, because Chinese members of the Hong Kong Volunteers were given permission to return home. He told Ride he remained because he wanted to know what it was like being a POW, and he also wanted to stay in case Ride needed help to escape, and he felt he would be of more use inside than outside the camp. He played a vital role in the escape.
Lee made their travel arrangements with the help of contacts inside the camp, guerrillas or guerrilla sympathizers who delivered food or supplies. Many were later killed by the Japanese for what they had done. When the escape plans were made, Ride and Lee were joined by Lieutenant D.W. Morley, a lecturer in Engineering at the Universi- ty of Hong Kong, and Sub-Lieutenant D.F. Davies, a lecturer in Physics at the same university, both from the Hong Kong Royal Navy Volunteer Reserve. The group escaped on January 9, 1942.'^
The party was picked up by sampan and let off on a beach near Castle Peak Road. From there they walked through the New Territo- ries, dodging Japanese search parties while they made their way to the outskirts of Sai Kung. After the occupation, the Japanese had left the Sai Kung peninsula in the hands of Wang Jingwei's men. (Wang was a Nationalist minister who defected to the Japanese side. He was Chi- ang Kaishek's most important rival in the Nationalist party.)'" Then bandits moved in and caused chaos. Fortunately for the escape party, on January 9, the guerrillas had taken control of the Sai Kung penin- sula. When the news of the escape reached the guerrillas and Wang Jingwei's men, they raced to see who could get to the escapees first. The Hong Kong-Kowloon Brigade leader was Cai Gualiang, whom Lee brought to meet the escapees at a rendezvous. Ride described in his diary the amazing experience he had of seeing Chinese villagers appear from nowhere to help them. Without them, the escape cer- tainly would have failed. The escape party was given food, shelter and clothing. Dressed as Chinese villagers, they arrived in Free China on January 17, 1942.^^
Gsfiiad 農 -Hong Kong Resource C* -"Wv-^
t S"dtfu CfMceiu. Km I li • Tofonio. CaA»<l« • MSS I A *
52 Building Bridges
In Free China, Ride was instrumental in starting the British Army Aid Group (BAAG) in order to pass much-needed medical supplies into the POW camps, plan escapes and help those who managed to escape on their own to reach safety. BAAG was established under MI9 because it was also part of British Intelligence, with the reluctant approval of the Chinese government, which did not want to have foreign Intelligence working within China. However, the British were allies in the war. The work of BAAG in Hong Kong could not have been carried out without the help of the guerrillas. In Ride's report to the War Office, the guer- rillas were referred to as "our" guerrillas because they were the escapees' lifeline to Free China, and at times "red" guerrillas because of their Communist leanings. Ride considered them to be "the most active, reli- able, efficient and anti-Japanese of all Chinese organizations."^^
The Chinese guerrillas infiltrated every aspect of life in Hong Kong under Japanese occupation. They were in the city and in the villages. They worked in Japanese banks, printing presses and even in the Japanese high command. They were involved in espionage, sabotage and rescue missions. They were an important link between the people of Hong Kong and the free world.
The control in the Japanese occupation zone was actually quite porous. People were smuggled back and forth across Japanese lines between Hong Kong and mainland China. It was also possible to sail to neutral areas like Macao or the French colony of Guangzhouwan, and then into China.
Initially, the guerrillas assisted many POWs to escape, but then it became too difficult, and the punishment of the prisoners who were left behind so severe that escape was no longer worthwhile. They passed information to the Chinese High Command, some of which was passed on to the Allies. It was with this information that the U.S. Air Force was able to bomb Hong Kong during the occupation, and a number of times guerrillas rescued Allied airmen who were shot down during these bombing raids.
Father As a Resistance Fighter
Since 1937, Father had been involved both in an official and an unofficial capacity in the Chinese resistance against the Japanese. He
Storm Clouds Gather: Hong Kong Falls To The Japanese 53
wanted to help as many people as possible, while making sure that his family was well looked after. His "guerrilla" activities involved both the Nationalist guerrillas and the pro-Chinese Communist Party guerrillas based in the East River Basin, Guangdong province. If it had not been for the protection of the guerrillas, it would have been almost impossible for our family, during the entire duration of the war, to escape unscathed, not only from the Japanese, but also from the Chinese bandits who were just as cruel.'"
Father did not belong to any political parry, and his actions were considered beyond reproach by both the Nationalists and the Com- munists. Once he overheard that the Nationalist Party was going to arrest Zhou Enlai who was with the Nationalists at the time (Zhou was the Chinese Communist Party liaison officer with the Nationalist Party, under safe conduct from Chiang Kaishek), and he immediately warned Zhou to escape, Zhou never forgot that. After the war, Zhou gave an order to the Xinhua News Agency, which was in effect an unofficial Chinese consulate in Hong Kong, that Father was to be given free access anywhere in China.-'
Father was in Huizhou, a Chinese guerrilla base in the East River Basin, when Mother and the three of us arrived in China. I don't believe he ever joined the guerrillas because the situation was very confusing. Different factions were competing with each other while working against the Japanese. 丁 here were actually two types of guer- rillas, the "red" guerrillas and the official guerrillas who operated in Guangdong under General Yu Hanmou. In addition, there were spies from Wang Jingwei's group, the British Army Aid Group and others. During those years, Father became friends with Soong Chingling, the widow of Dr. Sun Yatsen, and Edgar Snow, Mao Zedong's friend, as well as many top officials from the Nationalist government of Chiang Kaishek. After the war, Edgar Snow used Father's office whenever he was in Hong Kong.--
Father acted as a liaison between the escapees from Hong Kong, the guerrillas and the Chinese government, and his position was that of a humanitarian. He was frequently mentioned in Lt.-Col. Lindsay Ride's diary for his help in getting supplies such as blankets and med- icine to POWs in Hong Kong and the refugees who made it into China. It was likely that he was able to get these supplies because he
54 Building Bridges
was the treasurer of the Chinese Red Cross. Father's other wartime activities will be mentioned in a later chapter. Fourth Uncle told me that he went to see Father in Qujiang (the wartime capital of Guang- dong province after the fall of Guangzhou to the Japanese), in northern Guangdong province, in 1942, where Father was with Ride at the British Army Aid Group headquarters. Fourth Uncle, who was working for the Bank of China, was fortunate enough to be trans- ferred to London and remained there until 1947. Ride and Father earned each other's respect and became good friends. After the war, when Ride became the vice-chancellor of the University of Hong Kong, Father was on the Council.
0
4
A Family On The Run
The years between 1941 and 1945 were the early years of my life. As a war baby, I went with my family into China as refugees. Many events were told to me by others who were there. However, I do have some memories that remain fresh even decades later.
Under the Japanese administration, there was widespread propa- ganda of "A New Asia where Asians were ruled by Asians," meaning Asians ruled by the Japanese. People constantly lived in fear. The wealthier managed to buy rice at black market prices, and the rest just died of starvation.
By the beginning of 1942, the Japanese military made a public announcement of their intention to reduce the population in Hong Kong from 1,600,000 to what they deemed a "manageable" number of 500,000. They very nearly succeeded. The unfortunate were picked up in the streets and taken by truckloads to junks in the har- bour. These were towed out to sea and sunk or set on fire. In 1942 alone, 83,435 burials were recorded, many being victims of war, ter- rorism and reprisals.' The rest of the population was reduced by starvation to the point where cannibalism was practised. The rice ration of 8.46 oz. per person per day was provided for those who were fortunate enough to get it and this was often mixed with sand.
The streets of Hong Kong were dreadful sights. People lying in the streets were cut up for meat before they were dead, and anyone who
55
56 Building Bridges
forgot to bow to a Japanese soldier risked being decapitated. When- ever Joseph Tarn went to visit his girlfriend's home on Bonham Road, he would see truckloads of dead bodies being dumped into a long rec- tangular pit on the side of the Upper-level Police Station- (the present-day site of King George VI park), which was situated just below Euston, where the Poys were staying with the Eu family. In Central Market, Chinese tea houses were turned into gambling places. Special red-light districts in the city, known as comfort sta- tions, were set up for the Japanese soldiers.
Retreat from Hong Kong
The Chinese in Hong Kong were encouraged by the Japanese occu- pation government to return to China. Many in the Lee and the Wong families went to different parts of China, although a few chose to remain in Hong Kong.
The only branch of the Lee family that went to our ancestral vil- lage, Garlieu, was Second Uncle, with his wife and the three younger children. His older son and daughter went into China with the rest of the Lee family. Because of that, their experiences over the war years were different from those of the rest of the family. They went by boat through the Pearl River, then made their way to Garlieu. The two older boys, aged three and five at the beginning of the war, attended the village school.
Whenever there was news that the Japanese soldiers were in the area, the entire village would hide in the little huts in the fields, or they would all move to a neighbouring village to get out of the way. Cousin Raymand, who was three at the beginning of the war, remem- bers that whenever the villagers had to go into hiding, he and his younger sister would be put into large baskets, and carried on a bam- boo pole. However, his older brother, Hon Ching, who was five at the time, had to walk with the adults. The problems in the village were caused not only by Japanese soldiers, but also bandits, who looted villages at will. As a child, Raymand thought it very exciting when- ever there was news of bandits approaching, because the whole village would assemble at our ancestral home, which was large
A Family On The Run 57
enough to accommodate the entire village, and Second Uncle would give out guns to all adult males who defended predetermined posts, turning the house into a fortress. Cousin Raymand does not recollect any major damage done by bandits during their stay in Garlieu.^
er) went into China as refugees with their respective families. Helena, the older daughter of Second Uncle, followed Second Grandmother. Fourth Grandmother (concubine Ng Yuet) went to her own home town of Wuzhou in Guangxi province. All the teenaged children trav- elled to China together, and they attended school wherever they went. The only person who stayed was Third Grandmother (concubine So Han) who remained in Hong Kong with her son, Fifth Uncle, who worked in our rental office throughout the war years, collecting rent." Our family members took two routes to enter China ― by land through Sha Tau Kok or by boat to Zhanjiang, formerly known as Guangzhouwan which was under the Vichy government, and there- fore neutral. Many of us met up in China.'
Since Father was not able to get back to Hong Kong to take charge of us, he sent an underground messenger, probably a member of the guerrilla force, with a letter to Mother, asking her to follow the man into China with all of us. Mother at first suspected a trap and refused to go. When a second letter came, she decided to leave.
Many refugees sewed bits of jewellery into the lining of their clothes, or hid them in the soles of their shoes since they were subject to body searches by the Japanese and robbery by bandits. Jewellery could be used as cash, but the value was difficult to determine. By far the most valuable form of money was gold coins, which were easily convertible for the purchase of food and other necessary items. Moth- er must have hidden whatever she could in our baggage and clothing. However, she buried the bulk of her jewellery in the garden of the Big House with the help of Bill Poy.
In February 1942, my family left for China together with thousands of refugees from Hong Kong. Mother took four-year-old Richard, two-year-old Deanna, and me, nine months old, two servants, and six huge bags, and headed across the harbour by boat to the train station on the Kowloon side, accompanied by Fourth Uncle and Bill Poy, and
58 Building Bridges
watched over by the guerrillas. Bill Poy had obtained passes from the Kempeitai sergeant by telling them that Mother was his sister. He did this to avoid the possibility of us being stopped and searched. With his connections, he was also able to exchange some money for Mother before we left. After the war, Father asked Poy for the name of the Kempeitai sergeant in order to find him to thank him.*' Whether he was successful or not, we don't know.
The train was crowded and we had difficulty stuffing our bags in. Fourth Uncle said goodbye at the train station, and we headed for Fan Ling, still accompanied by Bill Poy. We got off at Fan Ling and Moth- er hired some bicycles to carry our luggage. From there, we walked with a stream of refugees towards Sha Tau Kok, one of the entry points into China. Richard and Deanna were carried by the servants on their backs, and Mother carried me. At Sha Tau Kok, Bill Poy said goodbye to us and Mother immediately destroyed the passes. Then we boarded a boat. When we got off we walked for about a day to Huiyang, and boarded another boat again to reach Father in Huizhou.
From Huizhou, we travelled by truck to Shaoguan, in the northern part of Guangdong province, and then by train to Guilin.' Father instructed his younger siblings and nephew Hon Chiu to follow the same route, and to meet us in Guilin. We were able to travel safely through enemy- and- bandit controlled territories probably because we had the protection of the guerrillas.
Soon after my family left, news came to Bill Poy from the Canadi- an Trade Commissioner's office where he was an employee, that he and his family had a chance to go to Canada. It seemed that they were fortunate enough to have been put on the list for diplomatic exchange between the United States and Japanese governments. The U.S. gov- ernment was exchanging Americans captured by the Japanese for Japanese interned in America/ Since there were more Japanese than Americans, Canadians were allowed to make up the difference. And since all Canadian soldiers in Hong Kong were in POW camps, the deficiencies were made up by the employees of the Canadian Trade Commissioner's office.
When Bill Poy heard the news, he thought it might be a trap set by the Japanese. He went to their family doctor, who was a brother-
A Family On The Run 59
in-law, to get his wife's X-ray which showed a scar in one of her lungs. Then he went to see the Kempeitai sergeant to sound him out to see if it was a trap. The sergeant advised him to take his family to Canada when Poy showed him the X-ray, saying that his wife really needed treatment. The sergeant didn't know that it was an old X-ray.
The Poys ― Bill and Ethel, Neville and Adrienne ― left Hong Kong in August 1942. To this day, the Poys don't know how their names got on the list. When they arrived in Canada, immigration officials told them they were not allowed into the country because they were Chi- nese, until they saw their names on the exchange list. They were permitted to stay, becoming the first Chinese refugees in history to arrive in Canada. They were given housing, and Bill Poy continued to work for the Canadian government in Ottawa in the Department of Trade and Commerce. 丁 hey had originally planned to return to Hong Kong after the war, but because of conditions in Hong Kong in 1945, Poy decided that the family should stay in Canada. They were made Canadian citizens by an Order in Council in Parliament in April 1949.
Life in Guilin
On our way to Guilin, Father encountered C.T. Wu again in Liuzhou. It was here that Wu met Mother, my siblings and me for the first time, and from then on, he became very close to our family.
In Guilin, we lived in a large house outside the entrance to the Seven Star Cave, which is a well-known tourist attraction. In 1942, houses were built right in front of the cave where now a road runs through to bring tourists to the site. Whenever there was an air raid, which happened more and more often as the Japanese advanced towards Guangxi province, we went into the cave for shelter.
Cousin Hon Chiu, who was in boarding school, used to stay with us on weekends. He came to get a little more to eat, because the boarding schools provided only two meals a day, and the children were always hungry. One of our servants, Suen Zeh, who was with us in Guilin, told Hon Chiu that we had ghosts in that house. From then on, he thought he actually felt someone pressing on top of him when he slept. He never dared to mention this to my parents, but
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whenever he had the excuse, he slept in Second Aunt's house, which was only five minutes away on Jiangan Road? Hon Chiu also said that he would go to whichever house had more food. Hon Chiu was with us, off and on, during the entire period of the war, and so was Second Grandmother.
We lived in Guilin for over a year. During our stay there, our two servants gave notice that they were going to leave. Mother thought it wise to go back to Hong Kong before the servants got there, because she was sure that they knew where her jewellery was buried. Jew- ellery could be used as cash, and it was necessary for our survival. She also needed to bring into China as many of our household necessities as possible.
Leaving us in the care of the servants and Father, Mother headed for Hong Kong with her sister Sarah, through Zhanjiang. However, Aunt Sarah could not get a pass to go to Hong Kong, so Mother went alone, while her sister waited for her in Zhanjiang. This meant that she had the added responsibility of getting Aunt Sarah's household belongings as well as her own.
Mother went back to the Big House to gather our belongings with the help of servants who had remained in Hong Kong. The first two floors of the Big House were covered with dead bodies. These were bodies of looters who had died from shrapnel or had been killed by Japanese soldiers who shot looters on sight. It seemed the looters never made it to the third floor where my family used to live. Mother told us how they had to walk over the dead bodies to get around. She used the third floor to pack the household belongings because the par- quet floors on the ground and second floors were caked with blood. (After the war they had to be completely replaced because they could not be cleaned.) I can't even begin to imagine how Mother managed.
Mother stayed in the Lee Building, further up the hill from Wan Chai, which had not been looted. She saw her parents and her younger sister, Josephine, who visited her there. One day, Mother was with her mother when they passed someone dying in the street and the person cried out, "Please save me!" The two women were help- less themselves, but Grandmother Wong, being a religious person, said, "Pray to Jesus, and He will help you."
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In Mother's later years, especially after Father died, whenever she came across any difficulties, she would tell me that since she had sur- vived the war, she was no longer afraid of anything.
Mother stayed in Hong Kong for a couple of weeks, then left by boat for Zhanjiang to meet Sarah. Everyone was convinced that Mother was well protected by the guerrillas. She brought with her not only her jewellery, hidden in all kinds of places, but also more than twenty large bags of household necessities, some of which belonged to her sister. The most important items were warm clothing and padded silk blankets.'"
People had the most imaginative ways of hiding things during war- time. I love the story of how one of my parents' friends, Lucy Chan, a lawyer, whom I was to meet in 1949, handled the situation. She boldly wore all her jewellery, big diamonds and all, and convinced the Japanese soldiers that they were fake.
When Mother returned to Guilin, she gave a padded silk blanket to C.T. Wu, for which he was very thankful, because throughout the war years he was always cold, but could not possibly afford to buy one himself. To this day, he has high regard for Mother as a very brave woman.
Throughout the war years, Mother sold or bartered her jewellery for our family to live on. For personal reasons, Father refused repeated offers to work as an engineer for the Americans in China, but carried on with his wartime resistance activities and was, there- fore, without an income. He worked closely with the Chinese Central government, the East River guerrillas, as well as the British Army Aid Group, on a voluntary basis. He had all his light-coloured clothing dyed dark in order to cut down on laundry. Being a thrifty person, his needs were few. We were barely managing financially, but he told Mother that when the war was over, everything would be fine. She was not to worry about our lack of possessions or the disposal of her jewellery, for he would replace them, and he cer- tainly kept his promise.
When the Japanese reached Guangxi in 1942, the repair and the completion of the Qian Qui (Guizhou Guangxi) railway lines" became of immediate importance for the movement of refugees. The
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Central government formed a committee of four engineers,'- headed by Hou Jiayuan, who was a Kuomingtang (Nationalist) member. However, they still needed someone capable and reliable to supervise the work, and Father was chosen for the job, and made an Honorary Kuomingtang Executive Member."
At that time, C.T. Wu was the manager of the Yong Guang Coal Company" in Guilin. Father convinced him that he would have a bet- ter future with us, and he became Father's secretary. Father needed someone like C.T. Wu who could speak Mandarin fluently, as Father could not. Wu often had to express what Father wanted to say at meetings. The two of them represented the Central government, and neither one was a genuine Kuomingtang member."
Wu accompanied our family to Yishan, in Guangxi province, where the Head Office of the Railway Administration was located. Here, Director Hou Jiayuan gave us a piece of land close to the Administration Head Office, on which Father designed and person- ally supervised the building of a two-storey house for us to live in. This house was built in the typical local fashion, of woven bamboo sheets patched with mud. Ours was better built than most, because Father had some concrete mixed in with the mud, and the mixture was thick enough to stop the wind coming through the walls."' By the time we built our house in Yishan, Second Grandmother rejoined us.
All through the war years, Father was, among other things, a vol- unteer treasurer for the Red Cross in China. Because of this connection, he had in his possession the drug Sulphanilamide which was not readily available in China. While in Yishan, C.T. Wu had a bad infection on his arm that was treated by this drug.''
From time to time, C.T. Wu had to represent Father in a supervi- sory capacity when Father was down with malaria.'** In later years, Father always prided himself that he had never been sick in his life, but he had forgotten the war years. When Father's health deteriorat- ed to a point when he felt he had to resign his post as the Honorary Kuomingtang Executive Member looking after the repair and build- ing of the Qian Qui railway lines, he found alternative employment for Wu. Through his friends Lu Yanming, Lian Yingzhou"" and Ou- Yang Qi,-' Father arranged a job for Wu with the Overseas Union
A Family On The Run 63
Bank of Singapore in Liuzhou. This bank was owned by overseas Chinese from Shantao, China, and under normal conditions, only Chinese from Shantao were trusted as employees. An exception was made for Wu because of Father's recommendation, and he was put in a position of trust, with responsibility for buying supplies for the bank.22 However, a few months later Liuzhou fell to the Japanese, and the bank moved to Chongqing.
On the Run Again
By 1943, with Japanese troops advancing, it was too dangerous to stay in Guilin. The five teenagers 一 my uncles, aunts and cousin Hon Chiu ― needed to move to safer areas, but train tickets were impos- sible to come by. Former Lee Theatre employee and friend of the family, Yuen Yaohong, came to their rescue. He knew someone high up in the Central government bureaucracy, Huang Maolan, whose father was a general. Yuen persuaded them to let the teenagers cram into the general's private carriage on the train. They arrived in Liuzhou, temporarily safe. From there, they took a train to Yishan. By that time, we had already left for Dushan in Guizhou province. Second Grandmother was still in our house in Yishan when the five of them moved in. Hon Chiu remembers that we had a garden where we planted a lot of tomatoes, and we also raised chickens. It was at this time that he learnt to kill chickens. He said if he hadn't, no one would have had chicken for dinner. They stayed in Yishan for a little while and then followed us to Dushan.
Transportation was always a problem in China, particularly dur- ing the war. Father's friend Wang Aigai, who was in charge of transportation for the Bank of China, had a fleet of trucks which pro- vided a means of transport for our family members from Yishan to Dushan. Dushan was a hilly town and our house was on the out- skirts. Conditions were primitive, and there was no running water. When the teenage uncles, aunts and Hon Chiu arrived, they attended school there; Hon Chiu was in junior high school at the time. Father would take Hon Chiu with him every day to bathe in a nearby brook with a waterfall, no matter how cold it was. My older brother was
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spared because he was too young to withstand the cold. Father used to tell Hon Chiu about his past, and about his engineering studies at Oxford" The bonding between uncle and nephew began at this time, and Mother remembered Hon Chiu saying that he would like to be like Father when he grew up.
In Dushan I became very ill. I was just skin and bones and too weak to hold my head up. Mother said I looked like a starved kitten, I was so small and frail. I was taken to a very primitive hospital, and one day the woman missionary doctor told Mother that I was about to die, and that Father should be called to see me for the last time. My teenaged Sixth Uncle, who was with Mother at the time, hopped on his bike and rode home to fetch Father. When Father heard the news, he came, bringing with him the only "magical" drug he had in his possession ― Sulphanilamide. The doctor had never heard of it, but Father asked her to give it to me, since there was nothing to lose. 丁 he drug saved my life.
I was a burden during the war because I was sick all the time, and ended up in hospital wherever we went. I started getting sick at the age of seven months, when Hong Kong surrendered to the Japanese. I had intestinal problems, dehydration, and once I had lymphangitis of the leg. My parents thought many times that they had lost me. On top of that, both my parents and my older brother had malaria. For- tunately, we all survived, and I lived to tell the tale.
As the Japanese troops were advancing into Guizhou, it was time for us to leave Dushan. By this time, I was old enough to know what was going on. After one of the bombing raids, Mother and I hap- pened to walk past our former house. She was very surprised that I immediately recognized it even though the roof was gone, and only the thick walls were still standing.
When we left, we once again had the help of Wang Aigai's trans- port fleet of the Bank of China. We travelled with them, on top of the cargo, to Guiyang, the capital of Guizhou. 丁 he journey along the hilly mountain roads was treacherous, and going downhill was hair- raising, especially when the brakes didn't work very well. Along the way, the convoy was stopped several times by Nationalist troops turned bandits. Fortunately, we were not harmed.-"' As a child of two,
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I can remember climbing on top of the cargo using something that resembled a rope ladder, and holding on for dear life. I also remem- ber being very carsick and throwing up hard-boiled eggs. Wherever we travelled in the primitive unhygenic parts of China, Father would not buy any cooked food (he described all the meats as looking black because they were covered with flies), so we had to survive on hard- boiled eggs. It has taken me fifty years to get over my phobia of hard-boiled eggs.
It was a lengthy journey. When we arrived in Guiyang, it was evening, and the sky was getting dark. The trucks arrived at a theatre, and out came former Lee Theatre employee Yuen Yaohong with a bag in his hand. He said to Father, "Dick, take this. It's for you." It was a bag filled with money. Hon Chiu said that it was a moment he would never forget, he was so impressed. No one in our family had money during the war. Yuen was managing that theatre in Guiyang at the time. He also looked after our living accommodations. In a house that was not soundproof, with my family upstairs, and Second Grandmother, the teenage uncles and aunts, Hon Chiu and his sister Helena downstairs, Hon Chiu said he could hear everything that went on upstairs.
Life in Chongqing
From Guiyang we moved on to Chongqing, in Sichuan province, again by the Bank of China convoy. This part of the journey was more secure because it was better controlled by the Nationalist troops. When we entered Sichuan, we were exposed to practices and foods that were distinctly different from those in southeast China. Sichuan foods were hot with chili, and it was difficult for us to eat because we were not used to it. Mother found it rather an appalling custom that the wealth- ier inhabitants had their coffins made ahead of time and placed under their own beds.
Since I was just a small child, I have only interesting memories. The adults had the worries, and I was the observer ― that is, when I wasn't in hospital. I had the greatest adventures with our servants all over the countryside, in my wooden clogs in the summer and cloth shoes in the winter. Leather was saved for making boots for the soldiers, so civilians
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didn't have leather shoes. We would walk along the rice paddies to see the farmers working and watch people picking snails. In our home snails from rice fields were never eaten because of parasites. Just the same, it was interesting to watch. One day, the servant and I heard a great com- motion as we were walking, and we went to see what the excitement was all about. We saw a large catfish struggling for air, stranded in very shallow water. It would be somebody's dinner. Another time, we heard that in one of the farms in the vicinity, a cow was about to give birth. The servant took me there just in time to see the birth of the calf. It was a wonderful learning experience for a child. Sometimes we would go to buy eggs, and some of these eggs would be fertilized. I still remember the embryos when the eggs were cracked open. Once, someone had the idea of having goat's milk, so my teenaged Seventh Uncle got hold of a goat and tried to milk it. What a sight!
When we entered Chongqing, we crossed the Yangtse River. We joined Grandmother, Third Uncle and Fifth Aunt, who were fortunate enough to have flown directly from Guilin in the transport plane of the Shanghai Commercial Bank.-' They had not experienced the hard- ship that we had. Sixth Uncle, sixteen years old, wanted to join the Chinese army but was turned down because of his age. He left school anyway in order to make some money, and worked for the Chinese government as a translator because his English was good. He was later sent to Burma.
In Chongqing, my family lived in Tao Yuan, a complex of houses that belonged to the Tao family, friends of my parents. The complex was built by Tao Guilin, who was the biggest contractor in China, having built some of the most important buildings in the country, especially in Nanjing and Shanghai? 丁 he Tao family lived in the large house on the left as you entered the gate, and we lived in the last house on the far right.
Grandmother, Third Uncle and some of the other uncles and aunts lived in Tian Tan Xin Cun, which was owned by the Shanghai Com- mercial Bank. Third Uncle, being a director of the bank, had the use of one of its houses.
By the time we were in Chongqing, I was close to three years old. I remember the little bungalow we had in Tao Yuan, on the banks of
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the Yangtse River. It was a simple house, with the living room in front, and the bedrooms at the back. The house was perched on the bank of the river, so even though the entrance was at street level, the end of the bedrooms was high above ground, since the river-bank was steep. The interesting feature of this house was that the kitchen was in a separate building down towards the river.
My brother, sister and I used to catch fireflies after dinner. We would put them in a bottle, and watch them glow. We caught turtles along the river-bank and tied them to a string attached to the back of the sofa in the living room so that they would eat the mosquitoes.
The kitchen was so far down the river-bank that it always got flooded. Whenever the water rose, all the adults in the family would rush down to the kitchen to move everything to the house. After each flood, I would have something new to play with, because the water always brought interesting things to the shore. Once we caught a crab that I wanted to play with, but Father was afraid that the pincers would hurt me. He did not know about tying the pincers, so he crushed them and put mercurochrome on them. He obviously did not know the biological difference between a human being and a crab. He tied a string on it so that I could walk it. We had no toys in those days, and I certainly never missed them.
I had friends I played with and visited, who taught me to speak a childish version of Mandarin which I've been able to retain to a cer- tain extent since. During our years in China I came to be called Mei Mei, for little sister, because I was the youngest of the three, and after the war, I got stuck with the name May, short for Mei Mei. It was a name I disliked because it is so common among Chinese girls.
While in Chongqing, we visited with our relatives, many of whom ended up there. In fact, with the advancing Japanese armed forces, that was the safest place to be, since it was the wartime capital of China.
On New Year's Eve 1944, my mother's younger brother Daniel, his wife, Helen, and their children were visiting us at Tao Yuan. After dinner, while the adults were chatting in the living room, the children went into my parents' bedroom to play. All of a sudden, my older brother felt sick, and he climbed up on a chair and vomited out of the window. The rest of the children clamoured up to see what was
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happening, and suddenly my cousin Joan fell out of the wide win- dow. Being the youngest, I was watching on the sideline. None of the older children made a move, so I went into the living room to tell the adults that cousin Joan had fallen out of the window.
One can imagine the hysteria. It was fortunate that electric wires strung across the back of the house under the window broke her fall. Otherwise she would have fallen a distance equal to two stories. Since it was not only wartime in Chongqing, but also New Year's Eve, get- ting medical attention was not a simple matter. However, my uncle and aunt managed to get a couple of rickshaws to take them to the closest hospital. Fortunately, cousin Joan was not badly injured, and ended up with nothing more than a scar under her chin. Till the end of my parents' days, they talked about my presence of mind at the age of three and a half.
The Japanese Surrender
Hostilities ended in Europe in May 1945, and the war against Japan assumed a different character. The objective in the Pacific became one of bringing the war to a speedy conclusion with as few casualties as pos- sible. On August 6, the first atomic bomb was dropped on Hiroshima, followed by another one on Nagasaki three days later. On August 14, 1945, at 23:30 Tokyo time, the Emperor of Japan formally announced an unconditional surrender to the Supreme Command of the Allied Forces.
On the same night in Chongqing, the Oversea Union Bank of Sin- gapore was having a dinner party. Among the guests were Minister of Foreign Affairs Chen Qingyun and the former mayor of Shanghai, Wu Tiechen. Chen's family phoned the bank to let him know that the Japanese had surrendered. Bank Chairman Lian Yingzhou and gen- eral manager O- Yang Qi immediately asked C.T. Wu to buy firecrackers. Lian and Ou-Yang, who were from Chaozhou (Guang- dong province), did not know that the people of Sichuan only lit firecrackers when someone had died. When the people on the street heard the firecrackers going off, they thought someone at the bank
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had died. That night, when the news was broadcast, no one slept. The crowds in the streets celebrated and everyone got drunk."
In Hong Kong, the moment the news of the Japanese surrender came, everyone went out onto the streets to look for Japanese soldiers to beat up? Chiang Kaishek claimed that Hong Kong was part of the China theatre, and therefore the Japanese forces should surrender to him. The future of Hong Kong had been discussed in earlier wartime summit meetings, and the retrocession of Hong Kong had been sup- ported by President Roosevelt. However, Churchill was not going to let that happen. For the next few days, there was confusion as to who was going to take over from the Japanese government. A message was sent to Franklin Gimson in Stanley camp, through the British Army Aid Group agent Y. C. Leung, code-named "Phoenix," on August 23, to take control of the government. Three days later, Gimson moved out of the camp to take up office in the French Mission building in town. On August 30, Admiral Sir Cecil Harcourt arrived with the Royal Navy to begin the postwar military government of Hong Kong, which lasted until May 1, 1946.
That August, Father, Third Uncle and Grandmother, flew back to Hong Kong from Chongqing on the plane of Lieutenant-General Sir Adrian Garten de Wiarte, who was the special representative of Prime Minister Churchill in the China theatre. Having been under Japanese rule since December 1941, Hong Kong's monetary system was in dis- array. As one of the first to arrive back to Hong Kong, Father was asked to hand-carry a large amount of cash for the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank.-'
Mother and the three of us, together with our servants, returned to Hong Kong the usual way, as did other refugees in China. Moth- er told us that the war was over and we were going home. Father had to go first because he was needed immediately to help Hong Kong get back on its feet. Part of our journey was on a small, crowded, flat-bottomed boat, on which we placed our bedding next to each other. The last part of our journey was by train and seats were diffi- cult to come by. Fortunately, our family knew the stationmaster, who told Mother that, in order to get seats, we had to be at the station at
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four o'clock in the morning. We took his advice, and we were on our way home.
Our teenaged uncles and aunts, together with Hon Chiu, remained in Chongqing to continue their schooling. Food for the boarders in the schools in Chongqing was quite plentiful, unlike Guilin's two meals a day, so when the older members of the family left to go back to Hong Kong, they were not as badly missed. During this time, whenever the teenagers needed money for school fees and living expenses, they would go to the Shanghai Commercial Bank. Hon Chiu remembers someone by the name of Karl Wu, a friend of Third Uncle at the bank, who would invite Hon Chiu for coffee from time to time. Hon Chiu was very impressed by the beautiful mansion Wu owned.
In 1948, when Hon Chiu graduated from high school, he planned to go to Shanghai to stay with Third Aunt and her American hus- band, Henry Sperry, in order to take the entrance exams for Jiaotong and Qinghua universities. By that time, the Chinese Communist Party was already in control of northeast China and had reached Beijing, Father telegraphed him to return to Hong Kong immediately to take the entrance exam for Lingnan University in Guangzhou, and to wait for an opportunity to go to the United States. When Hon Chiu left Chongqing to return to Hong Kong, Wu saw him off at the airport. The following year, China was liberated by the Communists, and Hon Chiu never saw Wu again.
♦
5
After The War: The Society Changes
At the end of the war, Hong Kong was in shambles. Then civil war broke out in China. The ensuing tide of refugees to Hong Kong caused a population explosion from 1.6 million in 1946 to 2.36 million by the end of 1950. In the first six months of 1950 alone, 700,000 refugees poured in from the mainland. In May of that year, the government adopted a quota system, which proved to be totally ineffective. Most of the refugees were unskilled labourers who were willing to work and were determined to make their new homes in Hong Kong. Some of them did not even know where Hong Kong was before they arrived there.
Occasionally, my parents would get a phone call in the night from a relative or a friend who had escaped from China and had reached Hong Kong. 丁 he landscape became dotted with squatters. Many of the huts on the hillsides were made from boards or scrap metal from junkyards, and there were beggars everywhere.
The Chinese Communists erected loudspeakers at Lowu and Man Kam To pointing towards Hong Kong, pouring forth propaganda and abuse against the British in general and the authorities in Hong Kong in particular. Along the border stood the guards from China and Hong Kong, facing each other. The Chinese troops would shoot anyone who was caught trying to escape. However, many did escape, which contributed to the increase in Hong Kong's population.
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We were lucky to have homes to return to. We even had a large garden where we had many fruit trees, a large chicken coop and a tennis court. Grandmother moved back to the Big House with her own children. Third Uncle got married and lived on the third floor as we had done before the war. Fourth Uncle, who returned from Eng- land in 1947, and Fifth Aunt lived on the second floor with Grandmother. Grandmother's other daughter, Second Aunt, was mar- ried before the war.
My family moved into the Lee Building, and occupied the top-floor apartment on the left. There were six apartments altogether, three on the right and three on the left of a wide central stairway. No one lived in the apartment below us. Father's old friend from his "guerrilla" days, Major Hector Shulwan rented the ground-floor apartment. Shulwan might have had connections with the British Army Aid Group in China. Shulwan, an English engineer who spoke fluent Mandarin, was a confirmed bachelor and his only hobby was car engines. During the day, he worked as Director of the Labour Depart- ment in Hong Kong, and after work he would put on his overalls, and we would always find him under his car. I was fascinated by this tall man in the greasy overalls whom we called Uncle Shulwan.
On the right side of the building. Second Uncle and his family lived on the top, Second Grandmother one floor below them. Fourth Grandmother lived on the bottom floor. With the children of Second Uncle, and with the frequent visits of many other cousins, we had lots of playmates.
My brother, sister and I shared a large bedroom. At night, one of the servants would set up her bed in our room to keep us company. She would tell us stories from Chinese operas, and at times, these sto- ries were so long that they would carry on for many nights. In the summer, we all slept with mosquito nets over our beds. In the winter, our beds were warmed by brass hot-water bottles wrapped with tow- els and pinned with large safety pins.
Even though Father was considered well-off, and we had a nice home, we had very little money. For the first and only time in her life, Mother made some of our clothes. I remember Mother dressing quite simply and wearing costume jewellery. The first toy I owned was a doll my parents bought me for my first Christmas in Hong Kong in
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1945. I was four and a half years old. It remained my favourite toy throughout my childhood.
Rationing and Shortages
The most important tasks the postwar Military Administration faced were the repatriation and resettling of prisoners of war and internees, the closure of the prison camps, and the demobilization of the armed forces and auxiliary defence services. There was a great shortage of government staff, and for the first time, local Chinese and Portuguese personnel were given much more responsibility. The cre- dentials they were able to establish during this period could not be ignored by future Hong Kong governments.
The first years after the war were very difficult for everyone in Hong Kong. The major concern was food, which was rationed. Sup- plies were controlled by the United Nations. The rebuilding of a healthy, growing community was constantly under threat from sheer lack of food. On May 14, 1946, the government appointed Father as Rice Controller for Hong Kong. The following week, Father held a press conference to announce that since Hong Kong was allowed only 20,000 tons of rice by the United Nations, which was half the required amount for the population, flour and green peas would be added to the ration.' By the end of the month, he protested to the United Nations because of the limitation imposed on Hong Kong. By September, the rice ration had to be reduced again, so biscuits and additional flour were added. Throughout 1947, conditions remained stable, but by the beginning of 1948, prices for flour and rice began to increase. In order to control prices, Father allowed the sale of cheaper rice imported from Thailand and Vietnam, and flour, which met with public approval. On May 6, 1948, Father resigned his vol- untary post, but was kept on as an advisor by the government.^
Father carried out his duty with such efficiency and correctness that no one, not even family and close friends were given preference with the rice ration coupons. ; I remember one incident in school when one of the boys teased me and said, "Your father is the 'shit' Controller." When I related this to him, Father said with a smile, "Ask him what he eats."
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During Father's term as Rice Controller, he became very good friends with Ma Luchen, an overseas Chinese in Thailand, frequent- ly called the "rice king" of Southeast Asia. Since that time, the Ma family has sent us bags of Thai rice, pomolos and mangoes every year. The white flower mangoes from Thailand are, I believe, the best in the world, but because they don't transport well they are not com- mercially available. Yearly, my parents distributed these gifts to family members. This practice was continued by Ma Luchen's son after his father died, and it went on until my mother died in 1996.
During those early years, when there were shortages and small industries had a difficult time, Father tried his best to help. Compa- nies such as Yu Tat Chi, which manufactured candied ginger, and the Garden Bakery, which needed sugar for baking, were grateful to Father for arranging supplies of sugar/ I remember the beautiful gin- ger jars and the wonderful candied ginger we used to have after dinner. Garden Bakery sent my parents cakes on special occasions, and they continued to do so, even after Father died. I saw the beau- tiful Christmas cake sent from Garden Bakery to Mother in 1995, the year before she died.
Another problem Hong Kong faced with the large increase in the refugee population was the shortage of water. Hong Kong had, up to that point, depended on rainwater, which was collected in reservoirs. The water supply became inadequate, and water rationing started. Depending on the time of year, water might be available for only a few hours twice a week. Because of the lack of water pressure, those who lived on the upper floors in high-rises might not get any water from their taps at all. It was particularly desperate in the poorer sec- tions in the city where people had to line up at public taps with buckets and fights often broke out. The newspapers and radio sta- tions reported many stories of woe. At least the wealthy could check themselves into a hotel when they needed a good shower, because there was no rationing for the hotels. I remember this time very well. Our lives were consumed by this problem. My parents would tell us when water was available and insisted that we be frugal with it. Our household staff used to fill the bathtubs and all available containers when the water was turned on.
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A large new reservoir was built at Tai Lam Chung in the New Ter- ritories, but when it was finished, the government realized that it was not big enough. The government could not keep up with the needs of the increasing population.
Health Problems
Health was also a major government concern in postwar Hong Kong. I remember the public-health nurses coming to the school to give us typhoid and cholera injections. I often had painful reactions to these, sometimes accompanied by a fever. We also had tuberculo- sis tests and smallpox vaccinations, when we had to wear wire covers over the vaccination area to prevent us from scratching. I dreaded those "public-health nurse days."
With my usual inquisitiveness, I found out that Father gave blood regularly to the Red Cross. I just happened to ask one day after school because I thought he was home a little earlier than usual. He never talked about it, but it was rather unusual for a Chinese to donate blood in the years immediately after the war.
It's not possible to think of the postwar years without mentioning de-worming. Father was quite aware of the state of hygiene in China during the war, and in Hong Kong right after the war. Once a year on a weekend during the cool months, all of us would starve ourselves for one day, eating only very liquid plain rice congee. At the end of the day, Father would give us worm medicine. The idea was that any parasites living in our bodies would be hungry and would ingest the medicine. The next morning, we would be given castor oil with orange juice, a horrible mixture. Presumably, that would eliminate the worms and the eggs from our bodies. Father never planned too far ahead, because it had to be at his convenience. Our cousins always hoped to avoid this procedure, even though they loved stay- ing over at our place, but anyone who happened to be with us that weekend would get the same treatment. Father impressed upon us that if we allowed parasites to live in our bodies, all our nutrition would be taken from us and we wouldn't grow. He was absolutely right. I did have worms in my body and I saw them being expelled.
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Father also believed his children should be trained to have regular bowel movements in the evening. So every night after dinner, the three of us would troop into the washroom. My brother would sit on the toilet, my sister on a tall spittoon, and I would be on a small spit- toon. Often we just talked and did nothing.
When we bought our first launch in 1947, the Swan, one of the crew members, Ah Gun, was scrawny and looked as though he had been affected by parasites. Father treated him with worm medicine. Over the years he worked for us, he actually grew taller and became much healthier.
Some time in the late 1940s, my parents came to the realization that my hearing was impaired. This was caused by my frequent ill- nesses during the war, and subsequent ear infections. A friend of Father's, Dr. Chan Yik Ping, was an eye, ear, nose and throat special- ist, trained in Vienna around the same time Father was at Oxford. Like many doctors who were licensed in China, Dr. Chan was able to work only for the Hong Kong government health service,' and not allowed to have his own practice. However, my parents had great respect for his ability and asked him about my hearing loss. He diag- nosed a perforated eardrum in my left ear. After school on a regular basis I was taken to see him by Father, who always came with me because he was so anxious and concerned. Dr. Chan inserted a thin tissue in place of my eardrum, and applied an ointment to encourage regrowth. Eventually, my eardrum did grow back, but I still notice a difference between my right and left ears.
The Refugee Families
My first personal experience with what was happening in China was when we suddenly had visitors. Sing Sheng" and Dorothy Chu, who was related to the Tao family we stayed with in Chongqing, arrived on the first day of Chinese New Year 1947. In January, the two had left Shanghai for Hong Kong to get visas to go to the United States. The plane in which they were travelling was diverted to Mani- la because of stormy weather. Then two of the four engines caught fire
After The War: The Society Changes 77
and the pilot ditched the plane in the China Sea. Seven of the thirty- six passengers died and the survivors stayed afloat in two rubber rafts for thirty hours until they were rescued by an American ship. After being hospitalized for two weeks, Sing Sheng and Dorothy finally arrived in Hong Kong and were welcomed by my parents/ They stayed for about a month, in the apartment below, and had all their meals with us, while they waited for their visas. I was six years old at the time, and just loved hearing their stories. After they obtained their visas, they returned to Shanghai to prepare to go to the United States.
Between 1948 and 1949, friends and relatives who came out from China stayed in the Lee Building. I am not sure whether it was because of a shortage of rental accommodations or because it was a temporary measure. At one time there were three families living in the same apartment below us. As children, we thought it was won- derful to have even more playmates, but I was beginning to realize the seriousness of the political upheaval in China by listening to the adults talk. I knew that the new playmates were only there tem- porarily and I was quite aware of the overcrowded conditions our guests were living in. Knowing that people had to leave their homes was not a comforting thought.
The apartment was divided into three sections for the three fami- lies. One of them was the family of Mother's older sister Pearl. Aunt Pearl left Shanghai with her six children while her husband, C.C. Kwong, stayed behind. Uncle C.C. was a highly qualified engineer who felt that he could stay in China to help the country. By 1950, he believed that the political situation was settling down, and he came out to Hong Kong to take his family back to Shanghai. However, they left behind their eldest son, Joseph, with us because he was of con- scription age, and they did not want him to be sent to Korea to be "cannon fodder," now that the Korean War was on. Within two years, their other children escaped back to Hong Kong, one by one.
The Chans were another family ― husband, wife and four chil- dren. Lucy Chan, a friend since the 1920s, was the lawyer mentioned earlier, who trained in England at the same time Father studied there. Mr. Chan was the son of an important official in China. What I
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remember most was the fact that Mrs. Chan, besides being a skilled lawyer, could knit a sweater in a day. She could even knit while she was having an afternoon rest.
The third family was Father's former employer in Guangzhou, Liu Jiwen, his wife and their children. Mrs. Liu, a beautiful and serene lady, was a gifted painter. During their stay with us, every day after school I would go downstairs and watch her paint. Because she knew I was so interested, she showed me how to grind traditional Chinese colours, and how to use Chinese brushes. Soon, I was sitting next to her at her table and she was teaching me Chi- nese painting. Mrs. Liu told Mother that I had artistic talent, and should be given painting lessons.
In 1949, the Chinese Communist Party formed the government of the Peoples' Republic of China, and the Nationalists of the Republic of China under Chiang Kaishek retreated to Taiwan.
Housing Problems
Father played a major role in helping the people of Hong Kong both privately and through the government. In 1946, Father was made a Justice of the Peace (JP). One of his duties was that of acting as a judge in the JP court, presiding over cases of minor infractions, such as hawkers who set up their stands where they were not allowed to by law. In appreciation of Father's service to the community, par- ticularly as the Rice Controller for Hong Kong, the British government awarded him the OBE in 1949.
In 1953, Father became a member of the Urban Council. He imme- diately spoke out publicly on the lack of affordable housing. He encouraged large companies to work with the government to build housing for their employees by providing affordable mortgages. He knew that this would greatly improve the relationship between employers and employees. At the same time, he also brought up the subject of the lack of understanding by the general public about pub- lic health issues and suggested that the government produce brochures explaining the problems.
After The War: The Society Changes 79
The crisis in housing caused severe health problems. The poor lived in shacks or in the open. Others paid landlords to be allowed to build shacks on top of buildings. There were no toilets or running water.
On Christmas Day 1953 there was a terrible fire in an area filled with squatters, and 53,000 people were hurt. The government final- ly realized that a third of the population of Hong Kong was made up of refugees who had nowhere else to go. Something had to be done to integrate them into the community. From then on, the Hong Kong government embarked on an ambitious resettlement program to pro- vide safer housing at minimal cost. This also helped to clear the land occupied by the squatters for industrial and commercial develop- ments. Despite the speed with which public housing was built, the squatter population grew even faster.
In 1961, as an unofficial member of the Legislative Council, Father complained that the government was working too slowly. It had promised to move 75,000 people into public housing in 1959. According to Father's information, as of February 1961， only 32,432 had been moved. He urged the government to cut the red tape to speed up the process, giving priority to those earning less than $300 a month.'"
It took until the 1980s to solve the problems of housing. 丁 he shacks on the hillside gradually disappeared and were replaced by high-rise public housing. The majority of these refugees became the backbone of Hong Kong's industrialization.
Refugees and Industry
During the Korean War of 1950 to 1953, the United Nations placed an embargo on China, dealing a fatal blow to the entrepot trade in Hong Kong. Fortunately for Hong Kong, some of the refugees brought with them not only money but industrial and tech- nological know-how. According to one estimate, several billion Hong Kong dollars came with the immigrants during this period. Between 1947 and 1949, more than two hundred Shanghai enterprises transferred their registration to Hong Kong.
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Industrialists arriving from northeastern China provided a boost to local industries, and were in turn aided by the established interna- tional trading networks in Hong Kong." Because of its lack of natural resources, Hong Kong's most valuable resource was its manpower, much of it including the refugee population and their knowledge and skills. Hong Kong's textile industry originated with these new arrivals. The opening of factories helped to provide jobs for the mass- es. By the beginning of the 1950s, "Made in Hong Kong" labels began to appear on many manufactured goods, a change from the late 1940s, when "Made in Japan" labels were common. At the same time, there was a growing need for skill and knowledge so that the Colony could become competitive internationally.
As more and more factories were built, important changes in social structures occurred. The traditional Chinese family with live-in Chi- nese female servants gradually declined. Many of these servants were women who originally came from the silk districts of the Pearl River Delta and had worked in the silk industries near their home villages until the Great Depression. When their factories collapsed, they moved to Guangzhou (Canton), Macao and Hong Kong. Some were women who had decided they were not going to get married, others were widows who had chosen not to remarry. Since they were illiter- ate, their only alternative was to work as household servants. They formed a sisterhood, zei mid, and depended on one another for moral and sometimes financial support. They were known as women who put their hair up, saw hai, meaning they would never marry. They braided their hair in the back in one thick braid, and it was never cut. The older women sometimes wore their hair in a bun. I was always fascinated by the amount of hair these servants had, and loved watch- ing them going through the ritual of hair washing, using a certain type of wood shaving, pao faT, which they bought from the market, and which added a lovely sheen to the hair.
With the opening of more and more factories in Hong Kong, many unskilled jobs were available, and these were filled by the younger ser- vants. The older ones remained with the families they had been with for years. Gradually, the factories absorbed all the unskilled labour in Hong Kong, and no Chinese household servants were available.
After The War: Thf, Society Changes 81
Working in a factory meant being able to have one's own home and family. Government subsidized housing had helped greatly in this respect and the standard of living for the majority improved. The posi- tions of household servants were gradually filled by Filipino maids, and later, maids from Thailand brought by employment agencies into Hong Kong. By the 1970s, live-in household help was almost entirely from other Southeast Asian countries.
As for me, the real change in Hong Kong began when we started to hear the Shanghai dialect spoken in public, and noticed the odour of "smelly" tofu, a popular Shanghai dish. We were frequently visited by the "Shanghai Woman," a gem agent who, with private references, went to wealthy homes to sell jewels smuggled out of China by refugees. 丁 he rich smuggled whatever they could out of China into Hong Kong, and overnight there was an abundance of jewels available for sale, the proceeds of which, I was told, were used to finance fac- tories and various other businesses. For the next few years, the "Shanghai Woman" would call on Mother whenever she had some- thing special. She was a chubby lady who wore a plain loose cheongsam, inside which was an undergarment full of secret pockets. I used to watch in great fascination as she unbuttoned her cheongsam, and from each secret pocket of her undergarment came the most beau- tiful pieces of jewellery. I always hoped she would come when I was home after school, and sometimes I was lucky. With such valuables on her person, I often wondered about her safety, but I didn't think it was my place to ask.
Refugees and Education
Father became involved with grass-root organizations, such as the Szeyup Business Association (an association of people from the area of our ancestral village in China), Wan Chai Kaifong Benevolent Associ- ation (a community organization to help the needy), Tung Wah Hospital (a hospital for the poor), Po Leung Kuk (for the protection of women and children) and many others. He spent a great deal of time organizing donations of warm clothing, and helped to set up free med- ical and dental clinics, free primary schools and also donations of free
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coffins, which was very important to the Chinese. As an education enthusiast, he was often invited to different schools for prize-giving days or for new school openings. Many of these were Chinese-lan- guage middle schools catering to the refugee population that needed someone to raise their profile. Throughout his life, Father always had time for those who needed him.
Schools in postwar Hong Kong were in a state of disarray. Many of the buildings were either destroyed or so badly damaged that they could not be used. With the increasing number of people moving into Hong Kong from China,'' there was constantly a shortage of schools. Classes were held in any available building. Between 1946 and 1948, 1 changed school four times. Two of the four schools soon ceased to exist.
In the 1950s Rev. R.O. Hall, Bishop of Hong Kong, set up Work- ers' Schools for refugee children. The Colonial government suspected these schools of communist infiltration" and anti-British indoctrina- tion and closed them down, and in some cases, deported the teachers." The Education Ordinance of 1953 and its subsidiary reg- ulations prohibited any kind of political activity in schools, including discussions of contemporary Chinese politics or of colonialism.
Improvisations such as three-sessional schools had to be adopted by the government. This meant that three sessions of school were held in the same building, morning, afternoon and evening, each with its own set of teachers and students. In 1952, my older brother, Richard, and my sister, Deanna, were sent to school in England. My younger brother, Christopher, and I attended St. Paul's Co-educa- tional College. We were very glad to be in the morning session, which started at eight o'clock.
I subsequently learnt that, because of food shortages and the dis- organization of the schools in Hong Kong, the Poy family decided to stay in Canada where conditions were much better.
'6
The Magical Years
From the end of the war to the early 1950s, my family lived in the Lee Building. Those were magical years for me. There were so many children living in the same building that we were never short of playmates. I loved the freedom to play in the garden, swinging on tree branches, picking fruit, and chasing chickens in the chicken coop. I constantly had scraped knees and my legs were dotted with mosqui- to bites. I loved the beautiful fragrance of the flowering trees and bushes. Mother used to pick the flowers to put in her hair. Whenev- er I hear the sound of heat bugs buzzing now, or smell the fragrance of Chinese jasmine, I am reminded of my childhood in our garden, a carefree time, full of fun.
We built a little "club" house with pieces of boards. We had small wooden benches and stools, and the most important item was a little coal burner. Every Saturday night, all the children got together to tell stories and roast sweet potatoes on the burner. I remember once Grandmother had her cook make soya sauce chicken and bring it to us in the club house. My sister had told Grandmother that she came first in class, and we deserved something for our Saturday night club. Being the youngest in the group, I was mainly a listener and observer. We were allowed to stay up as late as we liked. I was so pleased that I was allowed to join this group even though I was always frightened by the ghost stories the older children told. At the end of the evening, without fail, everyone ran upstairs calling out, "Ghosts chasing us!" I was always the last to reach the top of the stairs because I couldn't run as fast as the others.
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One night, I woke up and saw a white shadow with long hair mov- ing from our bedroom to the bathroom. The first thought that came to mind was what Mother had said: no one had died in the Lee Build- ing during the war. I thought, if there was no violent death in the house, we would not be harmed.
Another night, I woke up and saw a white shadowy female figure with long hair standing between my bed and my sister s bed. I thought it had to be the servant, but when I sat up in bed to check and saw her fast asleep, I froze. I couldn't even cry out. The white fig- ure moved closer and closer, then turned towards my sister's bed and fingered the mosquito net with her long nails. I kept saying to myself that she was not going to hurt us since we had never hurt anyone, then I passed out. The next morning, I asked the servant whether she had gotten up in the middle of the night to adjust my sister's mos- quito net, and she said no. I never told my parents about this because I didn't want to worry them.
To this day, I can't explain what I saw, but I remember those images very clearly.
Even though we lived on the side of a hill and were surrounded by trees full of birds, Father loved having birds in our home. We had a parrot and a couple of canaries. Father would give the canaries water, bird seed and dried squid cartilage. The cages hung in our balcony, and sometimes, wild canaries were attracted by them. Father enjoyed hearing them sing, especially early in the morning. Our cook also liked to feed the blackbirds that flew to the window of her kitchen in the back.
There were a lot of hungry people in Hong Kong during the post- war years. Sometimes our cook would give them leftover food from our kitchen.
Very early one morning, I was awakened by the sound of Father shouting from the window. When I went to the window to see what was happening, I saw a man carrying two chickens, one under each arm, running down the slope from the Lee Building towards Wan Chai. Apparently, he had climbed into our garden, and got into our chicken coop. Father saw him just as he was getting away.
The Magical Years 85
Those were the days when we were visited quite regularly by men who purchased recyclable and reusable cans and bottles. These men carried on their shoulders bamboo poles strung with huge baskets on each side. This was the postwar Hong Kong way of recycling.
Father was an early riser, unlike Mother, who liked to sleep in, so we always had breakfast with him. The first things he put in front of us were cod-liver oil, a brown thick liquid that we took with a table- spoon, as well as vitamin C, and calcium. He made sure we had a full breakfast. He retained the English habit of having bacon and eggs, or kippered herring. I used to like a piece of pan-fried fish if the cook could get it in the market early enough.
Father was always in a good mood in the morning. That was his best time of the day. He liked to drive us to school even though school in Hong Kong could start as early as eight o'clock in the morning. He liked to get to the office before everyone else, including the office boy. I asked him once why he didn't have the chauffeur drive us, and he said, "I don't want Ah Muk to have to get up so early since he lives in Kowloon. He can get the car from me at the office, and come back to drive Mommy." But I actually think he liked driving us to school.
My childhood image of Father was that of an old-fashioned, stern man on whom we could always depend, and one who commanded a great deal of respect. I was a quiet child who listened and absorbed everything around me. I don't believe Father knew how much I admired him. I was but a few years old when I realized that I was as strong-willed as he was, a quality he came to accept in me. I remember an incident when I was about five years old when he insisted that I should finish my lunch. I was not hungry and I refused. Since I was not allowed to leave the table until I finished, I sat there for hours until he relented. Ever since then, he knew I always made my own decisions.
As a child, I would rather listen than talk. We usually spoke Can- tonese at home, but during dinner time, my parents always spoke English to each other so that the servant would not understand what they were saying. In order for me to understand what was said, I had to learn very quickly. That was how I learnt English, by listening. I could understand the language before I could speak it.
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It was also around this time that I was made aware that I was an inquisitive child, for Mother complained that if she told me about a person, I would always want to know everything, including what the person's intestines look like.
In 1947, since my sister was a boarder at the Diocesan Girls' School and thrived there, my parents decided that they were going to enroll me as well. My stay didn't last very long. Not only did I have nightmares, I also cried every Sunday afternoon when it was time to go back to school for the week. My parents finally gave up and enrolled me in Grade Three at St. Paul's Co-educational College, which was a day school.
I used to have to fill in forms at school. At first I would write "engineer" under Father's occupation. But then I thought, it couldn't be right, because he seemed to do so many different things, and I knew he didn't make a living being an engineer. I decided to ask him one day what I should put as "father's occupation." He was involved with so many businesses that he took a minute to think, and then said, "Just put director of companies."
In the summer, we used to go swimming in South Bay, using the Lee family's swimming shack for changing. Our car was usually dri- ven by our chauffeur, Ah Muk, but Father liked to drive us to school himself during the week and to swim on the weekends. The summers were so hot and humid that we used to develop boils on our skin, but Father told us that the sea water was very good for our boils. When- ever we went to South Bay, the winding roads reminded me of the rides on top of the Bank of China transport trucks, and invariably, I would be carsick, and Father had to make frequent stops.
One day, while we were swimming in South Bay, Father asked me whether I would like to have our own house in that part of the island, and I was just delighted. However, what worried him was the isola- tion and the lack of public security during those years in Hong Kong and he changed his mind.
In 1946, I could sense something new was going to happen to our family. In May 1947, my younger brother, Christopher, was born.
The Magical Years 87
Launching as Recreation
Father believed in fresh air and sunshine. In 1947, as soon as he could afford it, he bought a launch, the Swan. It was the first of four he owned in his lifetime. The other three were the Mayflower, the Fortima and the Atalanta. Boating became a part of our lives, and I loved it. On weekends Father would take us out on our launch, and sometimes we would have dinner in one of the floating restaurants in Aberdeen. Later Aberdeen Harbour became so polluted that Father would not permit us to eat in any cf the restaurants there.
We never stayed overnight on the launch in the outer islands, because Father said there were pirates around Hong Kong. However, we begged and begged, and one day he agreed. We stayed overnight in the typhoon shelter in Causeway Bay. Our sailors hung a light over the water for us that night, and we caught quite a few cuttlefish to bring back to Mother, who was home with the new baby.
We used to have spectacular sunsets in Hong Kong, particularly in the summer. That was before the Colony became overcrowded, and the atmosphere was full of pollution. I always observed the sunsets when we were on the water and tried to remember the colours and the shapes of the clouds. Because I was very young, often, at the end of a long day on the launch, I would fall asleep before we got home. Father would carry me in and tuck me in bed. 丁 he next morning when I got up, I would get out my water-colours and paint the sun- set from the night before. My parents loved my paintings and my appreciation of the beauty of nature.
Spending time on the launch was the only recreation Father enjoyed. Some of our best moments were spent on our launch, out on the water, or on one of the off-islands in Hong Kong, away from the hustle and bustle of the city. It was also the time when the whole fam- ily was together, often joined by relatives or school friends. My parents rarely used the launch for entertaining, especially when we were young, because it was reserved for the family.
Father was one of the very first people in Hong Kong to own a launch, so we were able to go to many unspoiled beaches. Those
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were the days when the water was clear, and the beaches were so clean that we could dig clams to bring home to eat. We could observe sea life not normally accessible to city dwellers. I touched a baby octopus, watched a baby sole flapping in shallow water, saw sea- horses swim near our launch, and caught transparent shrimps with a handkerchief. We learnt the names and habits of many sea crea- tures from our crew, all of whom were Tankar people, who lived their whole lives on boats.
Being a public-spirited person, Father would clean the beaches of broken bottles and sharp rocks with the help of our crew. We were never asked to help because he wanted us to have as much time to play as possible. I taught myself to swim in shallow water. Because of my perforated eardrum, my head had to stay above water, in order to avoid an ear infection. I used to love waiting for low tide because that was when I would find interesting sea creatures that were normally under water. Even now, whenever we go to the seashore, I wait for low tide.
Once we docked in a bay where there were many jellyfish. They had claws that looked like chicken claws and poison which was haz- ardous to people. Father asked the crew to scoop up as many as they could and put them on the beach, where they melted in the sun and turned to water.
In the summer, because of the heat, we always went out in the after- noon for high tea and sometimes for dinner as well, returning to Hong Kong harbour when all the lights were reflected on the water. I can still feel the sea breezes on my face and smell the salty air. Those were special moments that I will always treasure. The harbour is no longer the way it was. Land reclamation has made it narrow and it is crowd- ed with busy boat traffic.
In the winter, we would go out on the launch in the morning and have a picnic lunch. After lunch and a short rest, Father would hike with us on the islands. We saw rather primitive burial plots and jars where descendants collected the bones of their ancestors. We saw fields of sweet potatoes, and crumbling buildings that had been there for hundreds of years when these islands were first inhabited by fishermen, farmers and those who worked in the plantations of
The Magical Years 89
fragrant wood which was exported to mainland China. It was fas- cinating for me to see how the villagers lived. Their lives had not changed for generations, little touched by the progress in Hong Kong. We would always return by late afternoon before it got too cold. Even today, I like going to the off-islands to trek across the hills when we visit in the winter.
Throughout the year, when we were on one of the islands, we would see fishing boats coming back to shore late in the day. Once we were on the beach and a fisherman asked Father whether he want- ed to buy some scallops shaped like half-open fans. He then opened one, and to my surprise, there were little pearls in it. The fisherman told us that they scraped these from the bottom of the ocean for the pearls as much as for the flesh of the scallops. I was disappointed Father didn't buy any.
We loved fishing with fishing-lines and often caught many colour- ful fish. My parents did not participate. We asked our crew many questions about the different types of fish we caught and learned a lot about marine life. At times a fishing boat would come up to our launch to sell fresh fish. From the hold in their boat where we could see many colourful fish swimming, my parents would choose one or two that we would take home to cook for dinner.
By the middle of the 1950s, we had our third launch, For tuna. It was my favourite because it was so big that we were able to have large picnics with our friends and cousins, uncles and aunts. I was the most gregarious of the four children and I always enjoyed these out- ings. We kept our crew busy looking after us. They would watch over those who were swimming to warn us in case a jellyfish surfaced. Once, a cousin was touched by the yellow tentacles of a blue jellyfish just as he was climbing up the swim ladder. He had to be taken to the hospital immediately.
The Lee Building and the Big House
Out of our living-room window in the Lee Building, we had a beautiful view of the hill and waterfalls. One of the waterfalls flowed into a rock formation that resembled a pool, where in summer,
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children would swim and play. We were not allowed to go there, but I loved watching them.
We had many different fruit trees in our garden, such as papaya, logan, guava, loquat, mango, wongpei and leichee, all planted by Grandfather. As children, we loved picking fruit off the trees, or in the case of papaya, because the trees were usually too high and too straight to climb, we would knock a ripe papaya off the tree with a stick, and catch it in an old raincoat. We would open it up and eat it right there in the garden. We played on the swing and the slide, we rode our bicy- cles around the garden, and walked on stilts that Second Uncle had made for us. We caught tadpoles in the fish ponds and the fountains, and we watched the goldfish swim. The older children would play bas- ketball in the basketball court.
Occasionally, we also went to the Big House to see Grandmother, who always looked solemn and always sat in the same chair. We would sometimes have a chat with the Sikh watchman in the guard house, Nam Singh, who would show us the snakes he caught. In the evening, when the servants came looking for us to have our baths, we would hide in the artificial caves Grandfather had built in the garden.
We often dropped in on Second Grandmother and Fourth Grand- mother, and visited our uncles and aunts since we all lived so close together. In the Big House, we had our altar to our ancestors, to whom we paid our respect on special occasions. Second Grandmother and Fourth Grandmother had altars to Buddha in their prayer rooms. We were often at Second Grandmother's because she was Father's own moth- er. I was fascinated by her serenity and her faith. I liked to watch her smoke her water-pipe, making a gurgling sound and blowing puffs of smoke. At a set time every morning and every afternoon, she would go into her prayer room, light the incense, put on her coarse brown prayer robe and kneel in front of the altar to Buddha with her prayer beads in her hands. She would then recite her prayers and move the beads with her fingers as if counting them. She was always so entranced that she wouldn't notice us going in and out making faces behind her back.
Second Grandmother was thankful for what life had given her and I never once heard her complain about anything. She always spoke of Grandfather with great respect, and she would go out of her way to
The Magical Years 91
have harmony in the family. She was a small woman with a strong and resilient character which gained her respect in the family. After Grandmother died, Second Grandmother became the matriarch in the Lee family.
On Father's birthday according to the Chinese calendar, Second Grandmother always made a village dish of duck cooked with taro, because that had been Father's favourite childhood dish. She would not let the servants make it, but always made it herself in the old Chi- nese fashion, cooking it slowly on a stove in the garden with dry straws. After she moved from the Lee Building to Caroline Mansion in the 1950s, she had to do this in a more modern kitchen.
My parents entertained a great deal. With Father's involvement with the Hong Kong government and with business, Mother was kept very busy being a hostess. In 1948 and 1949, Father was Hong Kong's delegate at the 4th and 5th Sessions of the Economic Com- mission for Asia and the Far East. By the beginning of the 1950s, he was on many government commissions, as well as being a member of the Urban Council. For as long as we lived in the Lee Building, they entertained in the Big House. I remember my parents getting dressed up and walking down through the garden. These were catered par- ties, but Mother had to supervise the menus, the flowers, the guest lists and the seating. My parents' parties were known to start early and end early. Father was famous for saying, "When the guests leave, the host will regain tranquillity."
Until the beginning of the 1950s, the Big House was the focal point of our lives. All family gatherings, Christmas parties and wedding parties were held in the main hall. The first day of Chinese New Year, we would all put on our padded cheongsams, little gold rings and bracelets, and gather at the Big House to pay our respects to Grand- mother. On the second day, wearing the same dresses, we would go over to the Wong Grandparents to pay our respects. Every dress I had as a child was red or pink, because these are good-luck colours for the Chinese. I got so sick of red and pink that it took me almost forty years to wear pink again. I still can't wear red.
The empty apartment below us in the Lee Building was occasion- ally occupied by my Grandmother Wong when she visited us. Our
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Wong Grandparents lived in Kowloon, and crossing the harbour was not so convenient then. One day, when I came home from school, Grandmother Wong had just returned