The traumatic morning of 15 February 1942 - a Sunday -
has been vividly recreated at the very spot, and in much the same
conditions as were experienced on that fateful day in the history of the
British Empire, inside what was the headquarters of Malaya Command in
Singapore when the decision was taken to surrender to the invading
Japanese.
General
Arthur Percival, C-in-C Malaya
The defence of Singapore was co-ordinated, if that’s
really the right word, from Headquarters Malaya Command: the cavernous
underground bunker complex that is now the Battle Box Museum.
Located in Fort Canning Park, the Battle Box was the
largest underground military operations complex on the island. The
construction of the 26-room bunker, set nine metres underground, commenced
in 1936 and was finished two years later. After the Second World War ended
it was re-opened for a short time and then completely closed up and left
virtually untended for more than 50 years. When re-opened it created such
interest it was decided to clean it up and turn it into a museum. It
opened to the public in 1997.
The collapse of Singapore ranks as one of the greatest
defeats in British military history and the repercussions of the surrender
reverberated long after the island became a nation in its own right.
Diagram
of the Battle Box, Singapore
The museum operates a guided tour beginning at the
ticket office where black and white newsreel footage outlining the opening
stanzas of the Pacific War is shown, noting the first shots of the
conflict were fired in the Gulf of Thailand, more than three-quarters of
an hour before Japanese planes began pounding Pearl Harbour. I found the
voice-over difficult to understand at times, but this may be due to the
age of the film in question and the quality, or otherwise, of the speakers
used.
A tour guide then escorts you up the path and into the
Battle Box. In the first room you are given headsets with commentary in a
choice of six languages: English, Japanese, Malay, Korean, Mandarin or
Tamil.
The differences between the modern-day guided tour and
the days of early 1942 are the lack of a multitude of khaki-clad soldiers
pouring out of every nook and cranny, no sound of bombing from air-strikes
and artillery and the comfortable conditions made possible by the
installation of air-conditioning, a luxury not available to the defenders.
General
Arthur Percival (on right) escorted to meeting with General Tomoyuki
Yamashita.
As the discarnate voice on the headphones mentions,
slices of metal were carved out at the top of the doors just so a little
extra air could circulate into the stiflingly hot rooms. The
claustrophobic conditions would have been exacerbated by the enervating
heat and humidity.
The air of reality is enhanced by 24 specially crafted
life-size figurines placed in various rooms and corridors in the complex.
They are so expertly cast I would think Madame Tussaud could learn a trick
or two. On a couple of occasions I wandered past a doorway and was
startled by the presence of a silent and unblinking khaki-clad figure a
few feet away.
The first room on the tour is the telephone exchange.
Here a moving figurine literally operates the connections, answering the
phone with a monotonous “fortress signals.” The caller will then ask,
for example, to be connected to the commander. Apparently, the military
used the ordinary telephone exchange right up until the day of the
surrender; it was more secure than using radio communications.
The next two rooms are the Signal Office and Signal
Control, the latter involved in taking Morse code messages. It’s then
onto the British Commander-in-Chief’s room. Here the figurine
representing 54-year-old General Arthur Percival is engaged in a
conversation with the Chief Engineer of Malaya Command, Brigadier Ivan
Simson. The pair start chatting like Virgil and Brains from an episode of Thunderbirds,
discussing the grave situation, with no reserve stocks of petrol,
artillery ammunition desperately low and the Japanese about to cut off the
city water supply.
It is beyond the scope of this article to go into
detail regarding the Japanese campaign on the Malayan peninsula, suffice
to say that from the first landings on the morning of Monday, 8 December
(Sunday, 7 December in the United States) it only took until 31 January
1942 for General Tomoyuki Yamashita’s army to force the British,
Australian and Indian defenders across the Johore Strait and into
Singapore, known as the Gibraltar of the East.
When the first landings in northern Malaya became
known, General Percival rang Sir Shenton Thomas, the governor of the
Straits Settlements and informed him. Sleepily, the governor replied, “I
suppose you’ll shove the little men off.” Four hours later, Singapore
was being bombed.
Although Percival had around 88,000 men at his
disposal, just 34,000 of these were ill-trained and poorly equipped
British or Australians. Yamashita had around 70,000 men, but they were
among the best in the Japanese armed forces. The Japanese had 560 modern
aircraft; the British a mere 158, and these were obsolete. Just as
important in the unfolding campaign, the Japanese fielded 211 light tanks.
The defenders had none. The tour guide later stated if the British had
possessed a few tanks and some better aircraft the campaign may have gone
far differently.
Japanese pre-war reconnaissance of the Malayan
peninsula and Singapore noted the good condition of the roads, and it was
down these highways the light tanks led the charge, with large sections of
the infantry on bicycles. A Japanese officer later praised the
“excellent paved roads and our cheap Japanese bicycles.”
Major-General Gordon Bennett, commander of the
Australian 8th Division later wrote, “Words fail me … I thought I
could hold Johore, but I assumed that British troops would have held their
piece. This retreat seems fantastic. Fancy 550 miles in 55 days, chased by
a Jap army without artillery.”
The Japanese did possess artillery but hadn’t
required it until they reached Singapore. With reinforcements, Percival
had some 85,000 men to defend Singapore. Yet, on the night of 8 February
1942, the Japanese were able to cross, almost without opposition, and by
daylight had 13,000 troops ashore. This grew to 30,000 in a short space of
time. The defenders began falling back.
A week later it was all over. Despite calls from
British Prime Minister Winston Churchill and Far East Commander Field
Marshal Archibald Wavell to defend Singapore “to the limit of
endurance” the situation was desperate. No air cover, no means of
withdrawal and no relief force in sight. Bomb-damaged pipes severely
reduced water pressure, allowing fires to rage unchecked. Unburied corpses
littered the streets. The relentless Japanese air attacks and shelling led
to greater civilian as well as military casualties.
Percival summoned all his area commanders to a meeting
in the Battle Box on the morning of 15 February. This pivotal meeting has
been re-created in the museum. The upshot was that a deputation approached
the Japanese lines to arrange a meeting between Percival and Yamashita to
discuss the terms of surrender. Percival, a brave man, chose to go himself
in the hope of obtaining better treatment for his troops and the
population.
After signing the surrender Percival cabled Wavell:
‘Owing to losses from enemy action, water, petrol, food and ammunition
practically finished. Unable to therefore fight any longer. All ranks have
done their best and grateful for your help.’ At 8:30 pm, when the
ceasefire came into effect, the guns fell ominously silent and the people
trapped on the island of Singapore would spend the next three and a half
years experiencing first-hand the curiously brutal Japanese code of honour
known as Bushido.
History has not been kind to either General Percival,
or the Australian commander General Bennett, who managed to escape
Singapore and returned to Australia and controversy. There was a belief
Bennett, a brave commander in the First World War, should have stayed
behind and shared the fate of his men. He was never given another command.
In Percival’s case he was vilified for his lack of
foresight and poor preparation. While true to a large extent, this ignores
the brilliance of the Japanese plan of campaign and their extremely
effective reconnaissance. In the week prior to the amphibious landing on
Singapore island, Japanese patrols infiltrated into the thick vegetation
on the coastline, mapping the thinly garrisoned defensive positions with
accuracy. One Japanese officer later told his captives he had posed as a
native and observed them close hand while noting the strength and
disposition of the Australian positions.
The responsibility for the failure to adequately
reinforce Singapore and Malaya ultimately fell to Churchill. In a moment
of candour he later confessed, “That in my mind the whole Japanese
menace lay in a sinister twilight, compared with our other needs.”
I have nothing but praise for the government of
Singapore and the people involved in the preservation of what is an
amazing historical site. Anybody with even a passing interest in modern
Asian history, or British/Australian history should put a visit to the
Battle Box high on the list of priorities when in Singapore.
The Battle Box, in Fort Canning Park, is open from 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.,
from Tuesdays to Sundays, including Public Holidays. As of October 2004,
entry charges were SD$8.00 for adults and SD$5.00 for children under the
age of 12. The nearest MRT station is Dhoby Ghaut.