Little Foreign Devil 2010 Chapter 14

8/3/2019 Little Foreign Devil 2010 Chapter 14

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WANGLE MARU

SERGEANT MURRAY lowered his voice to a hush.Slip out the back way boys. Theyve set guards onlyat the front. Fade into the alleys, get into mufti, doublequick time.

In a trance I followed what the others were doing.Olshevsky ditched his webbing pouches. I ditched mine.He went at a fast trot towards the bridge. I stayed onhis tail till he vanished into the gloom. So far not a signof a Jap. I made my way to Creek Road then turnedoff onto Douglas Road. The eerie silence was suddenlybroken by the clack-clack-clack of someone in hobnailedboots doing the hundred meter sprint. I flattened my-self against a doorway, my heart pounding, my lungsseized. Then I saw who it was Filiminovitch of No. 2Platoon. He spied me and clattered to a halt. His wordstumbled out: War! Nipponskis bombed Pearl Harbor.Sank the whole American fleet. Mass landing at SanFrancisco. Golden Gate blown up. President Rooseveltin hiding.

Before I could open my mouth, he galloped off withhis rifle at the trail, straight for London Road, straightinto the enemy cordon.

In twenty minutes I was at my front door. Tai-tai,Jie-jie, and Gui Xiang pulled me in. Fear, relief, tears,

everyone jabbering at once. Off came my SDs, put-tees, boots. Down they went in a bundle to be buriedin the backyard along with Grandmothers collectionof ancient swords.


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Youd better get some sleep, Tai-tai said.Sleep? In my state of nervous apprehension? Like a

moth drawn irresistibly to theflame, I had a suicidal urgeto go out and confront the maelstrom. Ancient Yi-jiescaterwauls served only to spur me on as I pushed mybike through the backyard. I pedaled off towards GordonHall. Things had to be happening there. They were. Asquad of Japanese in olive-green from battle helmet torubberized boots were setting up a strong point outsideMadame Voitencos Ballet School on Council Road.Another jibber-jabbering squad had formed a cordonbetween All Saints Church and the American Consul-ate. On Taku Road I took cover behind a rickshaw astruck after olive-green truck went roaring past.

I ran into Murat and Achmet in Victoria Park.Hi, guys. What you think?Murat clutched me by the shoulder. Deska, you got

away? When I heard the news this morning I was sureit was kaput for all you Volunteers.

What did you hear?According to BBC, the Japanese bombed Pearl

Harbor in a massive surprise attack. They sank a lotof battleships.

Where the heck is Pearl Harbor?What ignorance! Its in Hawaii. Its the biggest Ameri-

can naval base in the Pacific. The Americans are caughtup in the war now.

What about San Francisco?The BBC said nothing about San Francisco.Was Tientsin mentioned?Not a word. Were just a backwater, after all.Then maybe the Japanese will leave us alone.Not a hope, said Achmet. Tolstipiatoff told me that

at six oclock this morning, Major Ridler and Chief of Po-lice Dennis and ex-Chief Lawless and Mende of Reuters

were picked up and taken to American barracks.American barracks! What about the Marines?They were taken prisoner without a shot fired.Lucky the East Surreys left Tientsin when they did.

Lucky for me I wasnt at Volunteer headquarters whenthe Japanese arrived, or I too would be in the bag.

You still could be. They might be out looking foryou.


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Come and stay at our place, said Murat. We claimTurkish nationality. Japan is not at war with us.

What about my family?Bring the family.But no need to take up my friends generous offer; the

Japanese were too drunk with victory to bother with us.And what a flood of victories: Guam, Wake, Hong Kong,the Repulseand Prince of Wales. Then the unthinkable,the fall of Singapore, pearl of the Empire. The victorserected a huge sign outside Empire Theatre:

SINGAPORE SURRENDERS

All day long martial music blared from loudspeakersstrung outside public buildings. So many times did wehear the vainglorious Imperial Navy Victory March, wecould hum every note of it in our sleep.

Just before the end of February we got the first inti-mation that our days of freedom were numbered. Word

went around that all enemy nationals were to presentthemselves at the Astor House to register and to pickup an arm band which must henceforth be worn at alltimes. The arm bands were bright red, and those forBritons imprinted with the character Ying, the sameYingas for heroic, daring, soldierly; rather ironic fora nation brought to its knees. Even stranger irony forAmericans; the Meion their red bands stood for beauti-

ful. They might have lost their fleet at Pearl Harbor, butin Tientsin at least they could proudly show the worldtheir America was still America the Beautiful!

Dazka! Shtotokoi? Alioshka Bublikoff burst out,grinning clownishly, when he spotted the four-inch-

wide strip of red on my sleeve. You look like one ofthose guys in Movietone News displaying the Star ofDavid!

Igor gave him a dirty look. And Achmet. Wed all seenenough of it on the newsreels chilling scenes of old and

young kicked, beaten while scrubbing pavements.But nothing of the kind in Tientsin. And how that


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must have had the Japanese scratching their heads.Where were the Chinese who so had it in for the uppityEnglish and Americans? Could it be they were bidingtheir time, waiting for the moment when they couldsquare the account with allForeign Devils, including,most especially, the Eastern Foreign Devils, the hatefuldwarf people from across the Yellow Sea?

Were you at the victory parade? Alioshka put thequestion generally to our little gathering at Victoria Cafe.If you werent, you should have been. The Nipponskisput on a big show. Went on for hours. They must havebrought in every regiment from Mukden to Taku. And

you should have seen their tanks and field guns. Theygonna be hard to beat.

I was there, chimed Maxie Rosentool. I thought theymarched, or rather shuffled, like a bunch of warlorddrop-outs out of line out of step. Even the Chinesepuppets were smarter. And fiercer too, screeching outslogans as they goose-stepped.

Those puppets are a joke, said Murat. Theyll runat the first shot.

Or change sides.Yes, change sides at the drop of a hat.Mention of dropped hats, interjected the rather

dandyish Maxie (on the school stage he was Sir AndrewAguecheek to my Toby Belch), brings to mind thatother main event, that ceremony in Victoria Park when

the Chrysanthemum Throne, the guiding light behindthe Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere, deeded toits Chinese satrap full title to the House of Windsorsassets in Tientsin in other words, handed over theconcession, lock, stock, and barrel waterworks, powerstation, Gordon Hall, Masonic Lodge, Union Jack Club,All Saints Church, even dear old TGS.

Wasnt there a dust storm that day? Didnt half theGobi Desert descend on Tientsin?

Quite right, Maxie replied. Most of the bunting andflags and banners were torn away. Coolies had to berushed in to support the bamboo dais erected specially

for the occasion. But it was an occasion I wouldnt havemissed for the world. It was history in the making. There

was the park, there was the horde of Chinese bussedin from the native city, there was the brass band sounding like a circus band and there on the dais,


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exposed to the fierce gusts, were the bigwigs, Japaneseand Chinese, doing a Charlie Chaplin act, hanging ontheir wind-blown top hats and flapping coat tails asthey bowed and hissed at one another. We all know howmuch the Chinese love their Charlie Chaplin, yet nota smile showed on the faces around me. In fact stonysilence reigned all through the speech given by sometop-hatted, white-gaitered swell. And what mummery,

what sanctimonious claptrap heroic Japan bringingan end to Anglo-American exploitation magnanimous

Japan retrieving for China the lands expropriated bythe low-down, thieving English crown . . .

Did he say anything about the Japanese returningtheir own ill-gotten concession?

Not a word.Youre missing the best part, Aliosha cut in, huffily.

When the speaker at last shut up, there was a roll ofdrums, a blare of trumpets, and just as the Nipponskibigshot was handing the Kitaiski bigshot a roll of papertied with pink ribbon . . .

I was on the point of coming to that, Maxie sang out.Just as Fang Jie, Mayor of Tientsin, began thankingthe Japanese for their momentous gift the originaldeed the English obliged the Chinese to sign after theBattle of Taku in 1858 the loudspeaker went suddenlydead. There was some kind of commotion on the dais.I could see policemen scrambling all over it. I saw four

of them carting off the limp form of a man in a Westerndress suit. It was at that point that the audience beganfinally to react. First a cheer, then a laugh, then shoutsof applause. Youd never believe what happened. A brick,

which had somehow got dislodged from the pinnacle ofGordon Hall, came down with a crash on the mayorshead. Everyone thought he was killed, but next daysPeking Chroniclerejoiced over Fang Jies charmed life.His top hat had saved him. Nevertheless, he was hurt.Concussion. They took him to MacKenzie MemorialHospital.

Charlie Chaplin couldnt have been funnier.

It was the Japanese who made themselves thelaughing stock.

Theyre pretty damned mad. Anyone with an armband had better stay indoors.

Sound advice. For several weeks I ventured no farther


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than a block from home. One day, a knock at the frontdoor, and two Japanese soldiers were on the doorstep,grimacing like baboons. They had come to commandeerDoong Jis 38 Chevvy. They couldnt start it. It had tobe towed away. Few days later, another knock. Thistime they wanted our radio. Dammit! No more BBC.No more Radio Moscow. The only source of news leftto us was the Japanese sponsored Peking Chronicle, aghastly rag forever gloating over some Allied defeat onthe battlefront or morose happening on the home front.

There was that Deanna Durbin story. DEANNA DURBINSUCCUMBS! What a shock to learn the world had lostits sweetheart with the angel smile and silvery voice, thedarling ofThree Smart Girlsand Mad about Music! Hadall that singing been too much her lungs? And CarmenMiranda too CARMEN MIRANDA LOSES BOTH LEGSIN CAR ACCIDENT! Poor zany Carmen! No more bizarrefruit-basket hats. No more Chika-chika-boomchik!And what about that sensational headline:

LOCH NESS MONSTER DISCOVERED!

Incredible! Was it a dinosaur? Was it gigantic? Was ittaken alive? Maddeningly, the paper didnt say.

Balderdash, Vice-Consul Ogden told Brian Clarkeand me one tiffin time at the Masonic Hall, now turnedinto a canteen for arm band wearers. You mustnt be-lieve a word of it. Ludicrous propaganda meant to make

you homesick, weaken your morale. Nessie's discoveryis meant to tear your hearts out. But listen you two,Ive got something to tell you thatll really buck you up.I can get you out of Tientsin. You, Desmond, can getto India after all. Britain and Japan have agreed on an


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exchange of consular staffs and their families. Theyvealso agreed to let some non-diplomats go. I think you

young men should get priority.

What about my mother? My step-fathers in Burma.(Doong Ji had gone the previous summer to serve inthe British Indian Army.) Shell be left alone. And Ivegot a younger brother and sister.

All right. Ill try for the whole family. Hurry to AllSaints Church. Mr Bagshaw is there in the rectory tak-ing applications. Get your names down quick as youcan. Ill put in a word for you.

Brian had a doctors appointment or something orother, but I was out the door in an instant, zipping downRace Course Road. I was far too excited toflinch when Ipassed through the forbidding portals of the Protestant

rectory. I told Mr Bagshaw about Tai-tai, Tony, Bettyand signed for them. I was still burning with excitementwhen I brought home the good news.

No thank you, Tai-tai exclaimed. Nothing in theworld will induce me to leave. The Japanese are notinterfering with us, are they? The war will be over before

you know it. Everything will be back to normal. Butdont worry about us. You go. You wont be satisfiedtill you get to Calcutta.

The moment I clamber aboard one of the bussesparked outside Astor House, a familiar voice reverberatesthrough the vehicle, By Jove, Power! So youre comingtoo! And Major Ridler beams his hawk face at me.


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Well-wishers swarm aroundthe bus, laughing, crying, wavinghandkerchiefs, shouting good-bye. Japanese fists, heels, riflebutts force a general retreat tothe sidewalk. I lose sight of Tai-tai. I poke my head out of the

window. (See photo on previouspage) I still cant see her. A Chi-nese breaks through the cordon.Its Gui Xiang. He rushes up and thrusts a perspexbillfold into my hand. The tears in his eyes bring tearsto mine. I sink back into the seat and open the billfold.In one flap he has inserted a lucky charm, a miniatureof the Master of Heaven, Zhang Tian Shi, riding a tiger,

wielding a magic sword. In the other is a photo I tookof him a year ago. On the back of it he has penciled afarewell note to me. I stuff the billfold into my pocketbefore the guards spot it, but I dont smile again till weboard the train at Tientsin East.

In the second class carriage the buzz of conversationis punctuated with ripples of laughter. No one gives athought to the prospect of two stifling days and two sti-fling nights that lie ahead. Each minute that passes is aminute closer to freedom. But not everyone is rejoicing.On the seat facing Brian Clarke and me, a dementedteen-age girl sits between two attendants, cockneys,

Maritime Customs staff. Gently they restrain her, gentlythey wrestle her back when she wants inexplicably tobolt from her seat. Her piercing screams jolt us awakein the middle of the night. In the morning she is in astraight jacket, gurgling like a baby. None of us know

which way to look.Major Ridler pays several visits to our compartment.

He is accompanied by his daughter Anne, a vivaciousgirl with sparkling green eyes and peaches and creamcomplexion. I have hopelessly lost my heart to her bythe time we change trains at Nanking. Alas, with totaldisregard for my happiness the Nipponese put the Ri-

dlers in the carriage ahead; I dont set eyes again onsweet sweet Anne till we reach Shanghai.

At North Station, ugly signs of war: tall concretebuildings pock-marked with jagged shell holes, housesand shops with tops blown off, mounds of brick rubble.


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The scene of the 1937 battleground acts as a reminderto the Japanese of the high casualties they suffered;they scream, they curse, they herd us into buses atbayonet point.

Wonder why were heading away from the Bund?the man seated beside me remarks. Were going west

when we should be going east. The bus continues on its errant course. After an

age in chaotic traffic it turns into a graceful secludeddriveway where it brakes to a stop.

My neighbor nudges me. This is the Columbia Coun-try Club. Its American, you know.

But the accent of the man who steps aboard the busis strictly Oxford. Welcome to Shanghai, ladies andgentlemen. This holding center for repatriates will be

your temporary home for a day or two. Wed like you tostick together till weve registered you. Will you pleasefollow me off the bus.

He clears a way through the crowded foyer and shep-herds us into a roped off area in the clubs library. Hechecks us off against a roll. He breaks us into groups.Im in the group of single men who are told to proceedto the bowling alley. But we can forget about bowling;camp cots are strung out head to foot along every lane.We are each assigned a cot.

Gday cobber! A man seated on a suitcase in the

lane opposite gives me a welcoming smile. Supposeyou heard the Kamakura Maruhas been delayed.

No.Well it has. Were stuck here for a few more days.Where you from?


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Tientsin. We just got in by train.How did the Japanese treat you?Not too badly. Lot of shouting and pushing and

shoving. Thats about all.Youre lucky. We lot from Hankow had a pretty rough

time of it. They shot Tony Gorman and Rod Phillips. Ithank my lucky stars Ive got this far.

My feet suddenly catch his attention. Stone thecrows! those white and brown shoes of yours, theyrecalf skin arent they? Ive been searching everywherefor a pair like em. They look just my size. Whereverdid you buy them?

Didnt buy them. I had them specially made. I donttell him any more than that. Dont tell him I cut the adout ofEsquireand took it to the shoe maker on TakuRoad. And that miracle man came up with a copy soperfect, you would have sworn they were the made-in-Philadelphia originals.

Soon as I get to Sydney, Im going to get me a pairof the same. You want a word of advice, Cobber? Whenits time for kip you ide em nice shoes of yours. You

want more advice? You make bloody sure you get in thefood line before the gong goes. em bloody missionariesis the greediest lot Ive ever set me eyes on. Worse thanstarving pigs they are, snatch your bloody bread andbutter when youre not bloody looking.

In the library that eve-

ning a chorus of voicesin close harmony givea caressing renditionofLead Kindly Light. Ifind myself a place atthe back. I know the

words. I add my voiceto the inspiring finale.Hymn follows hymn.Abide With Meis inter-rupted by a heavy-set

man, purple around the nose, who maintains his bal-

ance by leaning on a floozy, all paint and peroxide. Thecouple weave their way through the assembly of goodChristians. The man stops to address them. His speechis slurred. Im lost, mates. I think I took a wrong turn.Can you direct me to me bed? Luba and me wants toturn in.


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In the morning we line up for the wash room. We lineup for breakfast. Afterwards, we line up for inocula-

tions, for tooth brushes, for Red Cross message forms.Curiously, not much smiling, and none of the light-headed talk youd expect from those who are about togain their freedom. Major Ridler isnt long in giving methe reason.

Were not going. Dirty rotters, theyve taken us offthe list. They say theres a second ship in a fortnight.

Theyre lying through their teeth. There isnt going tobe a second ship. Ive got their names. Theyre going topay for it after the war.

Whos they?The British Residents Association. Big moneys been

passed under the table. Most of those from North Chinahave been scratched off the list. Influential Shanghaitaipans have our berths.

Does that mean no one from Tientsin will be leav-ing?

No. The Consular staff will all be going, also Dennisand Greenslade of the Police and BMC's legal adviserKent and Penell of Peking & Tientsin Times and Mendethe one-legged Reuters representative, all of whom wereon the train with us from Tientsin.

In the evening the Australian in the next cot nextto me shows me his boarding pass. He says he will be

leaving atfive a.m. When I awake, his cot is empty. Heis on his way to freedom. So are my shoes.

BRAs dignified gray-haired secretary-treasurer ar-rives to placate his fellow countrymen. He has an easy


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time of it answering the mild questions put to him bythe men of God. The businessmen, old China hands,

who know all about dirty tricks, pin him against thewall.

An unfortunate mix-up, he pleads. All will be putright. The crack liner Teia Maru will be coming for youshortly. To get a berth you must prove who you are.So all the more reason for you to register with the lo-cal Chinese authority. But don't let that concern you.Youll soon be on your merry way.

Little Foreign Devil 2010 Chapter 14

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