The Second Mission: Canadian Survival in Hong Kong Prisoner-of-War Camps, 1941-1945

by Matthew Schwarzkopf

Chapter 2

The Battle to Stay Healthy

“It would be stupid to die of starvation after having survived the war.” 1

– Georges Verreault, Royal Canadian Corps of Signals, January 13, 1942

Food becomes an obsession for prisoners of war. In the diaries and memoirs of captives in Hong Kong, no other subject is mentioned nearly as often. After two weeks as a prisoner, Grenadier Thomas Forsyth wrote in his diary that the only topics of conversation throughout the entire camp were food and how soon they might be freed.2 Prisoners were preoccupied with when their next meal would come and what it would be. Food dominated conversations in the prison yard. Men compared favourite dishes, vividly describe which foods they missed the most, and write down meals that they desired to have once they were released. Some POWs, such as Royal Rifle Delbert Welsh and Grenadier Francis Martyn, wrote of little else.3 But it is thanks to soldiers such as these two that we have a largely complete record of what prisoners were fed during captivity in Hong Kong. Welsh wrote down what he ate nearly every day in 1942. Martyn was able to maintain a comprehensive list of what he was served for almost every day of his captivity, making his diary and notes an invaluable source. The Japanese provided enough rations to prevent outright starvation but did little beyond that. Rice was the principal foodstuff with items such as bread, vegetables, and tea also being reasonably common. On occasion, meat, fish, or fruit were added to the menu. To obtain additional sustenance, the prisoners relied on trade, ingenuity, luck, the Red Cross, and each other.

This chapter concerns how the prisoners fought to keep their health during their imprisonment. It begins by describing their principal foodstuff of rice and their struggles to cook and eat it. Then it discusses the vital contribution that Red Cross packages played in the battle to stay healthy. Next, the focus turns to the practice of trading for food before moving on to the importance of tobacco as a commodity in the prison camps. Lastly, it looks at the various medical ailments that the POWs suffered and the difficulties the medical staff faced to save lives. A constant theme in this chapter is that the men of “C” Force worked collectively to survive. They shared food, cigarettes, and Red Cross goods, and supported and motivated each other when they were sick. This fraternal bonding was crucial during the challenging first year of captivity and it grew stronger as the years passed.

As few Canadians in the 1940s would have eaten rice as a staple, for many prisoners in Hong Kong it was their first experience with the cereal grain. Some could stomach it easily, but others detested it and traded away their portions for a different morsel of food or a cigarette. However, as they were often served rice two to three times a day, being willing and able to consume it was pivotal to maintaining some semblance of health. Once liberated, several prisoners swore off rice for the rest of their lives. “I never want to see or eat rice again as long as I live, in fact I don’t even like the sound of the word”, declared Frank Ebdon to a local newspaper when he returned home to Delhi, Ontario. “Rice was our main food daily all the time we were prisoners of the Japs and it got to the point where we detested the sight and taste of it but we had to eat it to keep alive.”4 Most of the rice served to Commonwealth prisoners in Hong Kong derived from a British stockpile put aside in case of a lengthy siege. Thus, initially the Japanese were serving the prisoners their own supplies. This rice was the highly polished variety which is less nutritious than vitamin-rich unpolished rice.5 Rice was almost always available, but there were complications surrounding how to cook it, its quality, and the quantity served.

It is unlikely that any of “C” Force’s cooks knew how to prepare rice, but they learned quickly for their own benefit and the benefit of their fellow prisoners. Sergeant Howard Donnelly of the Winnipeg Grenadiers recalled that after the first few days, the Japanese supplied their camp with some gasoline barrels and bags of rice. This constituted their cooking implements and ten days of rations. They boiled the rice in the barrels, but it became a “gooey paste” that smelled of gasoline. Donnelly notes that while they enlisted a Chinese gentleman to teach them how to cook it properly, they still had to eat carefully to avoid the stones, maggots, worms, and rat droppings found in the rice.6 Royal Rifle Donald Languedoc said that they nicknamed their sticky gruel “Rice-O” and that it swam with “insects, straw, grit and other extraneous material.”7 The quality did not improve over time. In the late spring of 1942, food shortages were already apparent so the Japanese decided to raise a transport ship full of rice that had been sunk in the harbour. Having sat underwater for four months, the rice had turned soggy and many kernels had a black head the men referred to as kernel worm. The cooks started to make bread by pounding the rice into flour, but it was not enough nourishment, especially for those engaged in physical labour. It soon became apparent that the men would have to eat the worm-infested supplies. Leo Berard wrote that as it took great patience to separate the kernels of rice from the kernel worms, men simply gave up and ate everything. “The change to meat was nice,” Berard noted with a heavy dose of sarcasm.8 Some benefitted from patience, like Lucien Brunet of the Canadian Postal Corps who used chopsticks to eat even though he also had western utensils. He reasoned that the longer that it took him to eat, the more enjoyment he derived from it.9

With the cooking of rice better understood, the enterprising chefs found that they had to invent new cooking methods when a different foodstuff was introduced. On New Year’s Day 1942, the Japanese brought some live pigs into the prisoner camp but neglected to show or tell the POWs how they were supposed to be cooked. A few days later four pigs became the test subjects. Harry White wrote that they converted the gasoline barrels by cutting off the upper portion. Once cleaned out, a pig could be placed inside and the whole barrel would be put over an open pit fire to cook the meat. White adds that there was not much to go around for approximately 2,000 men, but with added tinned vegetables and some greens, it made for the first decent meal that they had had. Major John Crawford recorded that the pigs allowed for each man to have about 180 grams of food, but it was a rare delicacy served so infrequently that it made little difference to men’s health. With the prisoners averaging 226 grams of rice per day, Crawford estimated that the total daily caloric intake for the first month hovered at around 900.10 In the first three weeks of January 1942, Francis Martyn documented in his food log that breakfast consisted of rice, dinner was often “nil” or on occasion tea, and supper was rice sporadically served with pork or soya beans. On January 17, Delbert Welsh wrote of the inadequate diet in his diary, “just had rice for breakfast and never had enough of that, never had any dinner, had enough rice for supper.”11

Unsurprisingly, this meager diet caused drastic weight loss amongst the POWs. The results were almost immediate as Lieutenant Collison Blaver recorded that he weighed 180 pounds when the Battle of Hong Kong commenced, but that only two weeks later he had lost 20 pounds. Over time the effects were even more startling. Lance Ross weighed 216 pounds back home in Quebec; but by February 1943 in Hong Kong he had lost nearly half of his body weight, weighing in at 113 pounds. This was the last time he was weighed so it is possible that he lost even more weight before being freed. Ernie Hodkinson’s medical records showed that he weighed 189 pounds in December 1941. But in July 1945, even after benefitting from all the packages and parcels received in that final year of the war, he weighed only 118 pounds.12 By any measure, the soldiers were not fed enough, and it was up to the industrious and determined POWs to acquire extra sustenance.

Beyond what was served at mealtimes, there were a few other ways that one could get additional food. One method was to secure a job in the kitchens, thereby giving a POW the opportunity to scrounge a little extra from the pots when cooking or cleaning, a practice that brought resentment from fellow prisoners. Theft was another unscrupulous way to get food. While it did occur, most soldiers were reluctant to steal from each other and taking from the Japanese would almost certainly result in severe punishment. Growing fruit and vegetables in the camp gardens proved effective in the final years of imprisonment, a subject that will be discussed in more detail in a later chapter which concerns POW pastimes. But the primary means of acquiring more food came from the Red Cross packages that periodically made their way into the camps.

The Red Cross has its origins in the 1859 Battle of Solferino. As the French and Austro-Hungarian empires fought in Northern Italy, a Swiss businessman named Henry Dunant was appalled to find that veterinary care for horses was better than the care given to wounded soldiers. He organized locals to assist him with medical relief, and in 1863 a group of Genevans, hoping to emulate Dunant’s work, started an organization that became the International Committee of the Red Cross. More than fifty countries had ICRC delegations that were operational during the Second World War.13 A major wartime activity for the Red Cross was the distribution of food rations and medical supplies to prisoners of war. But the Second World War severely tested the Red Cross’s ability to perform its duties, particularly in Asia because the Japanese did not recognize the organization and did not feel bound to comply with its efforts. In Western Europe, with the exception of the last few months of the war, prisoners received Red Cross packages nearly every week. However, POWs in locations held by Japan, including Hong Kong, were lucky to receive five or six packages over the entirety of their imprisonment.14 Many shipments of food rations, cigarettes, clothes, and medical supplies were delivered to Hong Kong, but the Japanese appropriated a generous portion for themselves. One Canadian claimed a reliable source told him that the Japanese had stolen 30 percent of the Red Cross packages and only released the others when they saw fit. Another Canadian, Leslie Canivet, stated that after the war that the prisoners found a warehouse full of undistributed Red Cross goods.15 However, some packages were approved for delivery to the prisoners in Hong Kong and their importance to the soldiers’ health, morale, and survival cannot be understated.16

The diphtheria epidemic in the fall of 1942 brought many of the soldiers to their lowest point. The war dragged on, men were dying from disease and malnutrition every day, and no long-term improvement in quality of life or sustenance seemed possible. The Japanese informed the Canadian senior officers in early October 1942 that a Canadian Red Cross shipment had arrived, but weeks later nothing more had been heard.17 The high anticipation followed by crushing disappointment would have been demoralizing, but on November their patience was rewarded. Stores of corned beef (Bully Beef) and raisins were issued, and on November 28 group parcels were distributed to the officers and medical staff and individual parcels were released to the prisoners. The effect that this had on health and morale was immediate. Raymond Elliott indicated that two ounces of Bully Beef was the first meat that he had eaten in five months. On receiving the goods James MacMillan declared that “the unbelievable had happened,” while Georges Verreault simply called the packages “a gift from heaven.”18 The individual parcels delivered on the 28th contained fourteen items of food and one bar of soap.19 Lieutenant White reported on the men’s elation at receiving such varied and sought-after supplies: “talk about kids at a Christmas tree, nothing to the way we danced around here. The morale in camp has improved 100 per cent.” MacMillan concurred by noting that “one can’t imagine what kind of change a little cheer like this brings over the whole place.” The odd man would eat his whole parcel in one or two sittings, but most realized the importance of spreading it out. Dr. Crawford recalled that the supplies raised optimism amongst the men that if their delivery became a regular occurrence, they might just survive captivity. Nevertheless, the medical staff decided to distribute the group foodstuffs very carefully, just enough to bring the caloric intake up to 2,800 daily calories. This policy ensured that unit supplies lasted throughout 1943, when no new Red Cross parcels were received, and into 1944.20

Individual supplies did not last nearly as long, but the effect on one’s mood was profound. Lance Ross commented that men were still dying the day the parcels were issued, but that going forward they would save a lot of lives. Donald Geraghty was weakened with sickness when he received his parcel but noted that after a few days the condition of his inflamed feet improved, and he managed to get some deep sleep for the first time in a week. Arthur Squires, also feeling better thanks to the Red Cross, remarked on December 11 that it had been a week since they had a death in camp and that that was a “wonderful improvement.”21 The receipt of so much in such a short span of time inspired the men to create makeshift immersion heaters to cook their food, once again putting their ingenuity and resourcefulness on display. They used cans filled with water and bamboo strips connected to barred wires to heat the water, but this practice caused power failures and provoked the Japanese to intermittently shut off their electricity.22 This setback aside, by 1942’s end health was on the rise. And with the bulk foods in that shipment and individual food parcels, many men were able to save something for their Christmas meal. The saved food, in conjunction with the meal that the kitchen was preparing, ensured that the soldiers had something to celebrate on Christmas Day. They were captives, but at least they could fill their stomachs on a special occasion. It proved to be much more memorable than their previous Christmas in Hong Kong when they surrendered to the Japanese Army.

Arthur Squires recorded that the following items were on the Christmas menu: Bully Beef, M&V (a meat and vegetable stew), cake, pudding, greens, cocoa, stewed pears, and a pear pastry. Notwithstanding the greens and cocoa, many would have been tasting the other items for the first time in nearly a year, causing one soldier to declare it “a darn good Xmas.” 23 Private Stan Baty of the Winnipeg Grenadiers said years later that he did not think he had ever enjoyed a Christmas meal as much as that one. It was a hopeful end to what had been the most difficult and challenging year of those men’s lives. Writing on January 1, 1943, James MacMillan said that the only joy from the previous year was the receipt of the Red Cross packages. He thanked God for the salvation the Red Cross provided and noted the improvement in camp health as sight was returning to some who had lost it, while others were finally finding relief from dysentery and chronic diarrhea.24

For some, depending on which camp, hospital, or location to which they were transferred, this was their only Red Cross package for the entire war. Others were more fortunate. By 1943’s end most of the Canadians had been moved to Japan to begin a new phase of their captivity as war industry labourers. The most infirmed patients remained in Hong Kong as did the senior Canadian officers who would have access to more Red Cross supplies. In February 1943, Donald Geraghty reported that more individual parcels had been released. Major Baird, who was in hospital with dysentery at the time, commented that “You have no idea how we appreciate them. The little extras we get seem to taste so good, and the boys cheer up and seem to improve in health right away.” In April, Lieutenant White recorded that the Red Cross had provided ten yen ($55.00 in 2018) for each man. He echoed the feelings of many, stating “thank God there is such a thing as the Red Cross. Will always subscribe to them when and if I get home. It’s certainly saved lives.”25 By the spring of 1944, most of the initial shipment had been exhausted, but in April and May the camp received parcels from the Chinese Red Cross. Lieutenant Corrigan of the Grenadiers wrote of the former shipment that the men owed their lives to the food. Of the latter shipment he also thanked God and was grateful “that organizations of this kind are allowed to perform at least some of their functions in wartime.”26

In August 1944, the prisoners received some more individual food parcels from the Canadian Red Cross,27 but the shipment’s most important part was the medical supplies. For the first time Dr. Crawford’s staff had enough vitamin products to address the persistent problem of malnutrition. Again, caution was exercised, and the supply lasted into the new year. Major Baird wrote in September 1944 that “if it weren’t for the Red Cross, this camp would be really in a serious condition.” He credits the food and medicine for a rise in the men’s physical state and that he and others were gaining weight for the first time in captivity. But, by the end of October, his diary noted that they had used up their Red Cross boxes and were back to losing weight. Fortunately, at the beginning of March 1945 a shipment of individual British Red Cross supplies (of 1942 origin) were released to the prisoners, as was a stockpile of drugs from the American Red Cross.28

There is no former prisoner of war in Hong Kong who will not sing the Red Cross’s praises. The evidence from prisoner diaries and memoirs shows that the organization’s supplies, and their timely distributions, raised hope, morale, and most importantly, health to acceptable levels. Careful management and sharing ensured that food and medicine lasted for the longest possible period. The general spirit in camp soared when Red Cross supplies were delivered. It showed the prisoners that they were not forgotten, and it was a key motivational factor, physically and mentally, for the POWs’ struggle to survive.

Besides the Red Cross packages, the principal means of acquiring more food was to trade for it. North Point Camp was encircled by a barbed-wire fence approximately seven feet high. In the early months of captivity, before a parallel electric fence was erected in the late spring or early summer of 1942,29 it was possible to trade through the fence with Hong Kong locals or Chinese refugees. The Japanese allowed many prisoners to enter camp with what little money they still possessed as part of their personal possessions. A few days into imprisonment Harry White wrote that despite being patrolled by a dozen sentries, a constant crowd at the fence tried to sell looted goods such as cigarettes, biscuits, and Bully Beef to the prisoners. In some instances, soldiers were buying back their own rations but at an exorbitant price. On the inflated cost, White noted that three small buns would cost around 27 cents Canadian ($4.00 in 2018), while Raymond Elliott recorded in early January 1942 that one dollar (approximately $15.00 in 2018) could only buy ten cigarettes leading him to exclaim “if we could get out of here we would ring there dam [sic] necks.” Delbert Welsh also discussed the fence trade in early January, mentioning that he and a friend bought some cakes and cans of rice one morning and in conjunction with their regular meals it was “just enough.”30 As some Japanese guards were indifferent to the activity, trade through the fence flourished at first. But as early as January 21, 1942, Kenneth Baird bemoaned that it was becoming rare and would soon cease entirely as the authorities were beginning to crack down on it. “The Japs are shooting the Chinese that bring things to the fence for sale” he wrote adding that the previous Sunday two young girls had been killed for such an infraction. Canadians were not exempt from these punishments either as Thomas Forsyth recorded on February 3, 1942, when a fellow soldier was caught buying goods through the fence. He was slapped about the face, had his goods confiscated, and was taken away to see the camp commandant.31 With trade through the fence largely shut down after the first few months, the prisoners had to try different ways to acquire extra rations.

Some prisoners traded food that they disliked for something that they found easier to stomach. Royal Rifle Donald Geraghty, one morning after a “very poor breakfast,” exchanged his rice to a fellow prisoner for an additional bun. Some received extra rations if ill or employed in labour. Others shared a part of their meal with a friend if they felt that he needed it more. Harry White mentioned a friend named “Ted” who gave him the rice and greens he was unable to, or did not want to, finish. This extra sustenance “sure helps a lot,” White penned in the summer of 1944. In April 1945, as the war’s end neared, creative prisoners began to sell food that they had made. A kind of toffee was created using brown sugar and peanut oil, and the one-inch squares were sold for a yen a piece (about $5.50 in Canadian dollars in 2018). 32 Such cooking supplies were more common in the first few months of 1945 as the Japanese granted more parcels from the Red Cross and Canada entry into Hong Kong. These extra supplies gave the Canadians an unusual level of financial clout with their captors and they used it to their advantage, especially where cigarettes were concerned. Canadian tobacco was traded to the Japanese who, in turn, traded it in downtown Hong Kong and returned to camp with foodstuffs for the prisoners. “It’s the most excitement we’ve seen since becoming prisoners”, White exclaimed. “The morale is way up, everyone as optimistic as hell.” But the supplies dwindled quickly. By May, White had sold his last pack of cigarettes for eggs and in August he was forced to sell his great coat and battledress jacket for beans.33 Indeed, the importance of cigarettes in Hong Kong prison camps cannot be discounted; next to food, they were easily the most valuable commodity. Once traded they were food.

In fact, tobacco may have been more valuable than food, because according to Leslie Canivet, “money in POW camps was cigarettes.” He claimed, for example, that a ring might secure a couple of packs of cigarettes, and for one cigarette you could buy a handful of greens to put in your rice or some sugar to go with your tea. “This is pretty well how I survived”, he recalled. In July 1942, Thomas Forsyth commented that cigarettes were still the primary means of exchange in camp with guards and with each other. “One fag buys a bun, 2 or 3 a stew. Half of one a sweet sauce or an issue of black China tea.” Non-food goods were also available. On one occasion Baird was able to buy a sun helmet for 30 cigarettes and indicated that he would be willing to part with the same number of smokes for two sheets to help modify his “Beauty Rest.” Signalman Arthur Squires wrote that initially one pack could buy a shirt, a pair of socks, or a mess tin, while two packs could secure a battle dress or razor blades.34 Some Canadians went into camp with their own cigarettes, but when this supply was quickly exhausted, they had to acquire tobacco by other means.

The Japanese were happy to sell or trade cigarettes with the prisoners, especially since they valued foreign brands more than their own. They also provided cigarettes to men who worked on various assignments around camp. Squires once helped load wood onto a truck and was given two cigarettes for his efforts. He traded one for a slice of bread with the intention of doing the same thing the following day. James MacMillan noted that a full day of work at Kai Tak Airport was also worth two cigarettes. Canivet recalled that work at Kai Tak brought in ten cents ($1.50 in 2018) a day. But as a pack of Ruby Queen cigarettes could cost as much as twenty-five cents ($3.75), he and his mess mates pooled their resources and shared with each other. It seems cigarettes were smoked and used as currency in equal measures. Raymond Elliott wrote that he was paid ten cents a day ($1.50) and three cigarettes for work at Kai Tak in October 1942. He noted the modest canteen in camp and the availability of certain food items, but the prices were so high that he would have to work for 38 days to buy one tin of sardines.35 Cigarettes were almost always in short supply and it is unsurprising that camp morale would soar with the acquisition of a large supply. This typically happened in one of two ways: with the arrival of a package from the Red Cross or from loved ones in Canada, or from their senior officers who unselfishly shared with their men.

Article Twenty-Three of the 1929 Geneva Convention states that “officers and persons of equivalent status who are prisoners of war shall receive from the detaining Power the same pay as officers of corresponding rank in the armed forces of that Power.”36 Incredibly, this was one provision that the Japanese complied with. Thus, in mid-March 1942, Canadian officers began to be paid. Historian Brereton Greenhous noted that majors received 140 yen a month and lieutenants received 58, although he added that the Japanese deducted money for “board and lodging.”37 Other ranks received no money until work parties started in mid-June, but officers opened a successful voluntary fund and recommended that officers contribute 60 percent of their pay to said fund. Unsurprisingly, this policy put the senior men in good stead with their soldiers.38 Even if they partook in that act of kindness, officers still had the means to purchase extra goods, especially cigarettes which, at least initially, could be bought in the camp canteen.

There is evidence to suggest that Canadian officers were very generous with their cigarettes. This act of sharing a prized possession was appreciated by the recipients, but was also gratifying for the giver. The officers considered it their duty to take care of their men, and sharing tobacco was a simple method of raising morale and keeping their men happy. Grenadier Major Baird wrote on January 14, 1942, that the supply of tobacco he had brought into camp was already depleted. He had shared about half with the men in his company reasoning that “when a person can have a smoke, the lack of food isn’t nearly so bad.” It would be a struggle to abstain from cigarettes, but Baird noted that most of them “are in the same boat.” If his men were going to suffer, Baird would suffer with them. Later in May, when he had purchased more, he commented on the difficulty of evenly distributing smokes amongst a company of at least a hundred men. But in the same passage he indicated that his soldiers were making sandals and other things to sell for cigarettes, another instance where prisoner ingenuity proved resourceful and timely, as sandals were necessary for comfort in the hot weather. In June, a brief Delbert Welsh diary entry revealed that an unnamed officer had given him two cigarettes and a cake of soap, both valuable gifts that could be used or traded.39

On December 24, 1942, nearly all POWs wrote of receiving a Red Cross package and ten yen ($55.00 in 2018) from the people of Canada as a Christmas gift. “Our big surprise came today,” announced James MacMillan, who described the indispensable present as arriving in a white envelope adorned with Christmas trees and the words “Christmas greetings from the people of Canada.” Baird took his money and bought cigarettes for the non-commissioned officers (NCOs) and men of his company. Though it only left him with a single yen ($5.50) he was confident that this was the right thing to do as “it was the only thing I could buy that they would appreciate.” On Christmas Day, Baird took his largesse where it would be needed most, the hospitals. He visited his 40 men spread across three hospitals, “the Dip[htheria]., the General, and the Dip. convalescent ward” where he distributed a few smokes to each man and stayed for a talk. Unconcerned with his own health and the possibility of contracting disease, Baird’s selfless act surely inspired and motivated his men. The surprise shipment inspired Harry White to write on Boxing Day of how the packages and money were able to provide “C” Force with some measure of Christmas cheer. The Red Cross goods ensured that they had a special meal, with the orchestra providing the music and the officers handing out a pack of cigarettes to each man. According to White, the British officers did no such thing for their men and did not contribute to the joint funds that had been set up to aid the most infirm of men as the Canadians had done.40 Even as the war and their imprisonment dragged on, the officers became no less charitable. In late February 1945, a signalman from Victoria wrote that some of the boys had not received any cigarettes from their Canadian comfort parcels. However, several officers, having received thousands of cigarettes from the Royal Rifles of Canada Prisoner of War Association and in their private parcels, donated a total of 22,000 meaning that each man would get 100. Lieutenant Leonard Corrigan confirmed his involvement in this benevolent act and said that “everyone in camp was smoking Canadian cigarettes before the day was out.” He also recorded that Canadian generosity had not gone unnoticed by some members of the other units and that he received many complimentary comments.41

Sometimes, to encourage participation in camp activities, cigarettes were given out by the officers as prizes. It was important to keep men active and involved in camp activities, so the officers would attach some extra motivation. On Dominion Day, July 1, 1942, there was a sports day with baseball, volleyball, and distance throwing making up the games, while cigarettes served as the trophies. On another occasion a member of the Royal Rifles wrote that he received a cigarette from his lieutenant just for playing ball, a cigarette he promptly traded for a slice of bread. Major Baird spoke of weekly quiz contests and spelling matches that “keep the men interested and the prizes are cigarettes.” He calculated that he handed out about five for every one that he smoked, and though this practice often rendered him light of tobacco, he did it “to make the men’s lives a little more livable.”42 This fraternal pooling and distributing of cigarettes was instrumental in the prisoner’s survival. The men respected their officers and their generosity, and it boosted unit morale. But more importantly, possessing tobacco gave one the opportunity to trade it for the most crucial component of their survival: food. Indeed, cigarettes made life more bearable in many ways, but they also had devastating consequences for those unable to control their addictions.

Cigarettes and smoking could play a contrasting role in the prisoners’ lives. Having cigarettes gave one a certain measure of power. A nonsmoker or a casual one would have much to gain by trading tobacco rations for extra food or other items, or by sharing and buying favour with fellow prisoners or Japanese guards. But a smoker with a severe addiction could jeopardize his health, and his life, in a quest to satisfy his nicotine cravings. Three weeks into captivity both Georges Verreault and Thomas Forsyth commented on how desperate smokers were picking up discarded butts hoping that there was still a puff or two left at the end, but this was quickly halted by the medical officers who feared it would spread dysentery and other communicable diseases. Kenneth Cambon, who volunteered as an orderly in Hong Kong and became a physician in his postwar life, wrote that the need was so acute for some that they had no qualms about trading their rations for cigarettes. One prisoner estimated that “about 40% of internees will trade a slice of bread or a ration for a cig” and that half of the cigarettes were shared individually by at least four men despite efforts to stop the practice.43

Cigarettes are highly addictive, and the forced abstinence was crippling for some. Smokers needed help and some soldiers were committed to giving their comrades some encouragement to break the habit or at least get a grip on their addiction. Verreault had a friend who smoked constantly and refused to eat his rice. After ‘Beaton’ traded his watch for a few packs of cigarettes, Verreault figured this “hardheadedness will likely kill him” and that he would not have the strength to fight diseases when they came. So Verreault took it upon himself to ensure that his friend would eat. By warming, roasting, and frying the rice he was able to convince his compatriot to ingest some. Though described by Verreault as “slowly dying” and “a walking skeleton”, John Beaton survived imprisonment in Hong Kong and Japan, passing away in 2005. Though concerned with helping his friend, Verreault suffered from addiction himself, writing on one occasion that he smoked small slivers of wood in his pipe since he could no longer tolerate not smoking. Baird found being without cigarettes worse during the middle of the night when one “wakens and can’t go back to sleep.”44 Smoking alleviated the hunger pangs for many, including Lieutenant White who wisely rationed his cigarettes to allow for one in the morning and one in the afternoon and evening. But after selling his watch for fifteen packs, he found himself to be popular with his fellow prisoners who would congregate around his bed.45 Sympathetic and ignoring rules he should have been following as an officer, he occasionally shared a smoke with up to six men. White often tried to quit but failed. Raymond Elliott was more successful, perhaps due to making a cash bet with a friend.46 Health and the motivation to maintain it were crucial to survival in the POW camps. Some gave up too easily. Others saw it as their duty not only to survive themselves, but to help their friends and comrades. Still, being fit and reasonably well fed could only do so much for one’s health once diseases began to ravage the camps. In most instances, even for the medical officers, there was little the men could do to help each other if they contracted dysentery or diphtheria.

Dr. Crawford kept a monthly return and nominal roll for the sick men under his care. From December 28, 1941 to January 31, 1942, he recorded that 117 Canadians had been admitted in internment camp hospitals at Sham Shui Po and North Point for various ailments. Diarrhea and dysentery accounted for 95 cases, malaria and fever were responsible for another 13. This was a sign of things to come, especially for the former two illnesses. But for the moment there was good news. Of the 117 patients, 94 were discharged and one was transported although to where is not mentioned. That left 22 men under care, meaning that none of them had died.47 Crawford and his staff would not be so helpful in the future.

Dysentery was the most persistent and widespread of the diseases facing the Canadian POWs. Easily communicable, it causes intense abdominal pain and the discharge of bloody stool. The loss of blood could be substantial, and more severe cases often resulted in death.48 In North Point an old warehouse had been converted to serve as the dysentery hospital, although serious cases were sent to Bowen Road Hospital. Royal Rifle Geoffrey Marston had such a dangerous battle with the disease that he titled his unpublished autobiography, “The Scourge of Dysentery.” He describes frequent bowel movements, stomach cramps, nausea, and general weakness. He soon found his “stool streaked with blood and mucus.” Sent to the camp hospital he was given a cot on the warehouse floor under a roof which leaked rain. “The atmosphere was frightening,” he recalled. “Patients were tottering at a snail’s pace along a narrow aisleway to reach a closed-in quarter at the end of the ward that was used as a toilet. Those unable to muster strength to leave their so-called beds lay in their own muck. Dirty blood-stained pieces of toilet paper littered the floor.”49 The existing supplies of sulfa drugs and tooth powder were quickly exhausted, meaning the cure was often a starvation diet of tea only for four days. Some considered themselves fortunate to be among the worst afflicted as a transfer to Bowen Road usually meant better food and conditions.50 Marston became one of those patients and managed to survive dysentery, giving full credit to the exhausted and overworked medical staff. He singled out the nursing sisters, Katherine Christie and Ann Waters, for particular praise.51 Unable to contain his emotions, he cried upon discharge. “I owed my life to them” he stated. Before he left the hospital, he went from bed to bed, holding hands with the patients to offer some encouragement.52 He had survived; possibly others could do so too.

While dysentery was rampant and caused many deaths over the course of incarceration, the most feared disease was diphtheria which became a lethal epidemic in the fall of 1942, killing at least 58 Canadians. Highly infectious, the disease is caused by bacteria that produces a heavy membrane on the inside of the throat. As with dysentery, the disease in Hong Kong was largely the result of unsanitary conditions and overcrowding. Death is usually caused by either asphyxiation or by the toxins developed by the bacteria which incites heart failure.53 Royal Rifle Kenneth Cambon noted that his battle with diphtheria began because the Institut national de santé publique du Québec and the Canadian Army had failed to immunize the men against the disease.54 Diphtheria manifested itself at North Point in August 1942, leading Dr. Crawford to report that an epidemic was likely. But his warning was ignored by the Japanese who refused to provide any anti-toxins. In Sham Shui Po the disease spread quickly as there were only twelve latrine buckets for 500 patients. At least 50 patients were crowded into a hut that was only large enough to accommodate 32, meaning that most huts were without enough beds on which the sick could rest.55

In September and October 1942 diphtheria was killing prisoners almost every day. Royal Rifle Delbert Welsh wrote that he was admitted to hospital on September 29. On October 4 he recorded his three meals as he had consistently done since captivity started. On the 5th he penned his final entry “Never eat [sic] anything all day. Couldn’t swallow.” He died the following day at just 21 years of age. The disease was devastating for camp morale. Georges Verreault, so terrified by the death around him and fearing that he may be next, gave his diary to new friend William Allister for safekeeping. Raymond Elliott also wondered “who will be next?” after writing at October’s end that 50 Canadians had died in the previous six weeks.56 A common element in prisoner diaries at this time, indeed throughout incarceration, was the scrupulous recording of the names of ill comrades and of those who had succumbed to disease. Elliott noted when friends went into or came out of the hospital, as did Welsh before his death. Collison Blaver and Francis Martyn kept lists of “fallen comrades” recording the dates and causes of deaths.57 Perhaps to serve as evidence of their atrocious living conditions, it is just as likely that these meticulous recordings were meant to memorialize those who could not complete the second mission by surviving their captivity. Though prisoners, they were still soldiers and felt it was their duty to remember their fallen brothers.

Many diaries and memoirs mention the death of the commanding officer of the Winnipeg Grenadiers, Lieutenant-Colonel John Sutcliffe, who died of beriberi and dysentery in April 1942. The loss of the most senior man was demoralizing, as described by Leo Berard: “The knowledge that one of our senior officers had died of disease took part of our spirit as well. It was particularly sad and cruelly ironic that the one man who took care to ensure that we maintained the highest standards of hygiene and sanitation should be one of the first fatal victims.” Nathan Greenfield noted that Sutcliffe’s funeral attendance was the largest for any of the 500 men who had died in battle or in the camps. The Japanese commandant allowed 32 officers and men to attend the service which was conducted by three Canadian chaplains and a British padre.58 The loss of friends never became easier despite it being a constant occurrence for nearly four years. In the summer of 1945, both Ernie Hodkinson and Kenneth Baird were devastated by the illness and subsequent death of their close friend Harry Hook. Only a few weeks from the war’s end, Hook passed away on July 7 from meningitis and malaria. His hometown friend, Hodkinson, wrote, “He was extremely courageous and cheerful…carrying more than his share of all things during our incarceration – a very pitiful end for a genuinely true, honest, sympathetic, sacrificing, noble character.”59 The death of these two role models indicates that other health concerns accompanied dysentery and diphtheria. Moreover, despite the best efforts of the men to remain healthy and active, the range of diseases in Hong Kong did not discriminate.

Due to the low-protein and low-vitamin diet of the prisoners, deficiency diseases such as beriberi, pellagra, and electric feet (also known in camp as burning feet or happy feet) syndrome were also a regular menace. Beriberi, caused by an extended lack in the diet of vitamin B1, produces swelling due to the body’s retention of fluids. Too much swelling in the chest can result in heart failure. In April 1942, Arthur Squires wrote that a friend succumbed to malaria, dysentery, and beriberi, but he felt that his friend might have pulled through were it not for the last disease. The pain begins in the feet and legs, so Squires would take to massaging a friend’s limbs to offer some relief.60 This simple act was yet another example of the men pulling together to help each other through the toughest times. Sometimes pellagra and beriberi afflicted prisoners at the same time. Resulting from a lack of lack of vitamin B3, pellagra affects the skin, stomach, and brain, causing skin lesions, failing vision, sore feet, and as with beriberi, persistent urination. William Allister commented that it “brought open, running pus sores to many parts of the mouth and body.”61 Prisoner misery was further compounded in the fall of 1942 as a third deficiency disease made its presence felt.

Arguably the most painful sickness resulting from malnutrition was electric feet, better known as Grierson-Gopalan syndrome. Major Baird lamented in May 1942 that “on top of everything else the boys have what they call electric feet. They burn and ache…you see men sitting and holding their feet, rocking back and forth and crying like a child…” One prisoner said they called it electric feet because it felt like “pins and needles of searing, shooting fire. It would hurt so severely that slaves62 would walk on the parade square at night to ease the pain.” Another added that it “shocks as though a needle or electric wire contacted the feet, and constantly all day and night. No wonder some of the men are nearly batty.”63 If they did not cause death, all three diseases had the potential to disable men for the rest of their lives. Blindness was added to the list of woes. By May 1943, Arthur Squires estimated that ten percent of the men could not recognize a face at forty yards. Avitaminosis, a condition caused from a lack of vitamins, and diphtheria were responsible for full or partial blindness in 66 members of “C” Force.64 With such a range of health concerns afflicting the prisoners, it must have been devastating to lose one’s sight in addition to everything else. The medical officers did what they could given their means. But credit must also go to the average soldier, as many of them were determined to help their sick comrades, even if all they could offer was moral support. Many of them recognized that if they were to survive, they had a better chance of doing it together.

Some soldiers, as their senior officers had, visited sick friends to encourage a speedy recovery. Tom Forsyth was touched by the kindness of his fellow Grenadiers who visited him in both Sham Shui Po and North Point when he was recovering from dysentery. Furthermore, he drew inspiration from hospital mate Eric Anderson who was badly injured in the fighting. Despite having shrapnel in both legs and one arm, Forsyth commented on Anderson’s indominable spirit, writing that he was “remarkably cheerful, though both legs are in a cast from toes to knee.”65 On January 1, 1943, several Royal Rifles visited their friends in Sham Shui Po’s so-called agony ward where the sickest men were confined. Raymond Elliott, feeling healthy for the first time in a year, took the opportunity to check in with those less fortunate, noting “some men deaf, some men blind. All from lack of food.” Frank Ebdon echoed those words when he and another Rifle visited their company mate Harry Adams, commenting that he “still looks bad, he was blind, deaf + light in the head all due to Malnutrition and Electric feet.”66 Adams survived his illness and made it home to Canada. These hospital visits reminded the men that their brothers-in-arms were still there and that they still cared. In his study of POWs in the Far East author and The Times journalist Brian MacArthur reasoned that kinship and togetherness were critical factors for prisoners under the Japanese. “The strength of the strongest increased the chances of survival of the weakest, and the men became their brothers’ keepers.”67 It was yet further proof for the Canadians that survival depended on teamwork and a belief in each other.

Compassion for their fellow Canadians was an enduring characteristic during “C” Force’s imprisonment. In late spring 1944, Grenadier Campbell Rutherford weighed less than 100 pounds, was badly jaundiced, and had contracted parasitic worms. To give his body a mental and physical boost, the men in his company voted to give him their eggs that the Japanese had brought into camp. One onlooker remarked that “to most of them it would be the first egg they’d had in months and was a real sacrifice.”68 There were few sacrifices greater than giving up food, but it seems that this was done often with no complaints.

Others felt duty-bound in different ways. Georges Verreault wrote to his wife wondering if he should visit the family of a friend who had died in the early stages of the war. Being from the same neighbourhood, the two men had discussed celebrating their return to Canada together. Later that year, after another friend had died from dysentery, Verreault noted that he would be singing at the funeral, his way of offering “a last friendly gesture before his body is carried away in that rough box.”69 Funerals became a part of life in Hong Kong and occurred with such regularity during the diphtheria epidemic that the Canadians stopped playing the “Last Post” when someone died to avoid harming group morale. In October 1942, there were two or three funerals every day, 41 of them for Canadian soldiers.70 Yet, there would have been even greater camp casualties if not for the tireless effort of “C” Force’s medical staff -- a medical staff that was always fighting an uphill battle.

In addition to Major Crawford, the medical staff included three other medical officers, two nursing sisters, and two dental officers. Prisoner diaries routinely recognized their efforts as a primary reason why so many sick and infirm men managed to survive captivity. Crawford was often mentioned by name and his courage and leadership, when it was needed most, were exemplary. Early during their incarceration, Crawford was offered the opportunity to join an escape, but he refused for three reasons: it was obvious that medical personnel would be desperately needed; he felt that his height and appearance would give him away; and he was scared and “preferred to stay with the devil I knew. I deeply regretted my decision on a good many occasions subsequently.”71 The men of “C” Force were fortunate that he stayed.

Major Ernie Hodkinson told his family a story about hitting his lowest point in Hong Kong. The senior officers often set the examples when it came to motivation, but even they could become despondent. As the war entered 1943, Hodkinson found himself in a state of apathy, too discouraged to leave his bunk. Crawford came to his bedside and said, “Goodbye Ernie.” Hodkinson asked where the doctor was going. “He said he wasn’t going anywhere but I would soon be leaving for a grave if I didn’t get up and eat. Dr. Crawford just wouldn’t give up on me and literally nagged me into getting up and eating something. He saved my life.”72 Performing their work with little medicine and very basic instruments, the medical staff did commendable work. Razor blades and jackknives were used to perform surgery and supplies such as tongue depressors and needles were cleaned and reused.73 One POW wrote that on a kit inspection by the Japanese in March 1942, they seized the medical and technical books further compounding the difficulty of treating sick prisoners. With practically no medicine provided, the doctors had to trade on the black market to secure certain drugs such as antidiphtheritic serum and nicotinic acid (niacin or vitamin B3) which was used to treat pellagra. Something that worked to their advantage was that Japanese soldiers with venereal disease, usually syphilis, occasionally consulted the Canadian doctors for fear that they would be admonished or punished by their own officers.74 The Canadians would treat them with quinine or thiamine in exchange for more black market drugs, but it was never enough. Additionally, the medical staff were not immune to the violence that was common in camp. During the diphtheria epidemic the Japanese blamed the medical staff for the mounting number of deaths, physically assaulted some of the orderlies, and beat Dr. Crawford with a rubber hose. The Japanese also forbade Crawford from listing “diphtheria” as the cause of death, insisting that he record “dysentery” instead. Crawford felt his dignity was hurt more than anything, and even joked that “Oddly enough, nobody died the following day. Perhaps the Japs had the right idea.”75

The Japanese, fearing that the disease would infect their own troops, finally released some anti-toxin serum to quell the spread. But for the Canadians the short supply created another problem. According to Major Gordon Gray of the Royal Canadian Army Medical Corps, the medical staff were now in the unfortunate position of having to play God, as there was not nearly enough serum to treat everyone who was infected. They decided to prioritize fresh cases and those who were being made to go out on work parties. If the Japanese called for 500 working men, the doctors had to provide them with 500 bodies healthy enough for the task. Gray credits the men for their remarkable compliance, “because never once did they complain about your judgement. I thought morale was surprisingly good for what they were going through.” Remarkably though, the first serum used for injection was not provided by their captors but instead smuggled into camp by an anonymous hero. “God only knows how many lives that man has saved,” James MacMillan wrote in November 1942.76 There were other unsung heroes among the Canadian soldiers when it came to treating illness. Some, such as Kenneth Cambon, signed up early to help as an orderly. Others, such as Arthur Squires, unselfishly volunteered when it was needed most: during the diphtheria epidemic. The tireless efforts of the medical staff, plus the willingness of ordinary prisoners to assist them undoubtably saved lives, but these acts were motivating for unit morale as they showed that these men were willing to fight and survive for each other.

Without being fed a minimal amount of food and having the very basics of medical care, it is impossible to imagine that any of the POWs would have survived their imprisonment in Hong Kong. But the soldiers of “C” Force quickly learned how to make use of their rudimentary cooking supplies and shared with each other what little food the Japanese provided. Sharing of the Red Cross supplies was also instrumental in the battle for health as was the convenient timing of their distribution. Clever trading brought in additional sustenance and strong leadership ensured on several occasions that the men had cigarettes to use as they saw fit. Lastly, the indefatigable efforts of the medical staff, and the compassion exhibited by ordinary soldiers gave the Canadians encouragement to complete the second mission. This chapter discussed how the Red Cross parcels and the exceptional work of the medical staff were important to unit cohesion and in raising spirits. The following chapter will take a closer look at morale and explore some of the different ways that the prisoners kept themselves, and others, motivated to survive captivity and make it home to Canada.