After we had moved to Homuntin, we were able to move around more freely and being nearer to a ferry, more frequently went across to the Island.
At this time, I experienced more of Dr. Selwyn Clarke’s kindness, and had to visit him for a time for treatment. He was allowed to have patients at the French hospital and there cared for a number of civilian patients who were too ill for treatment in Stanley Camp, as well as attending to outside patients. He also arranged for me to have an X-ray examination and made no charge for examinations or medicines.
One night, when I visited him at the hospital, he asked how we were making out financially, and I told him that we were still able to support ourselves by the sale of medicines, blankets, tablecloths, and other things we did not need. There were still some medicines unsold and he very kindly offered to take the balance off my hands at my own price.
Another time, when I was leaving, he said, “You had better let me make you a loan of one hundred yen in case you run short.”
I assured him that we had been so remarkably provided for hitherto, that I believed our needs would be met and did not wish to borrow. When he still pressed me to let him help, I told him that if we came to the end of our resources and were in need, I would let him know.
“But perhaps it will then be too late,” he replied, “you know there is a sword hanging over my head, and it may fall at any time, and then I would not be able to help you.”
I did not realize how prophetically he spoke, but we learned that he was even then working to get the International Red Cross to take over the majority of his responsibilities, and shortly before we were repatriated, the “sword did fall,” and he was arrested by the Japanese, imprisoned and brutally tortured. There were many like ourselves who had been recipients of his kindness, and I know that many of them were praying for him.
Another doctor, to whom we were indebted for much kind assistance, was a very capable Jewish physician and surgeon who had escaped from Vienna after the Nazi putsch in that city, and came to Hong Kong, where he had his house and office not far from Homuntin.
While we lived in Homuntin, we had the privilege of meeting many other Christians, most of them English-speaking from abroad—Australia, New Zealand, Canada and the United States—and we spent many happy hours with them in Bible readings twice weekly.
Our good friend, Mr. J., had for years had Bible Readings in his home, and it was a privilege to be able to attend them, and there were also meetings in the home of two Chinese Christian ladies.
The Japanese were not long in showing their antagonism to Christianity, but very soon after their entrance to Hong Kong, had closed up most of the regular churches.
One little Evangelical group was allowed to continue meeting for a time, as the only English-speaking service in Kowloon. Several small Chinese chapels and meeting rooms also continued their services for a time.
At the beginning, the Japanese ordered all Christian bodies to register and give particulars of their services and associations. About the beginning of the second year, they were notified that all Protestant bodies were to be unified under a Japanese Supreme Head whose orders they would be responsible to obey or they would have to close up their places of worship.
Some of the smaller fundamentalist groups took alarm at this order, fearing that it was the thin edge of the wedge, and that if they thus signed away their freedom of action, the time would not be long before they would be called upon to choose between obeying God or Caesar. They thought that this might be the first step toward forcing Shrine worship on the Christians as the Japanese had done in Korea and Formosa.
Some groups then withdrew their former registration and closed their doors, but because the Japanese forbade more than ten meeting together unregistered they broke up into small gatherings of from six to ten persons, meeting in various homes for worship. Even then, they met with fear, for there were Japanese spies going about everywhere and they did not know what persecution they might be called upon to endure if their meetings were discovered.
About this time, the Japanese were building a large Buddhist Shrine on the top of one of the Hong Kong mountains. When the day for the laying of the foundation stone arrived, the Protestant churches which had registered were invited, or ordered, to send a delegation to express their fellowship with the Japanese. It was a sad, but hardly surprising commentary on the type of Christianity they represented, that a delegation was sent, and, so far as I heard, there were no voices raised against it.
One of the pleasant advantages of our move to Homuntin was that we were then close neighbors of our good landlord and his family and we had many happy visits together.
Generally, Mr. J. would do the marketing for his household, which was a large one, and as I did it for ours, we would meet each day and compare notes as to what was a good buy.
Fish was generally our chief meat, as pork and beef were so exorbitantly priced that we could seldom afford it, unless on rare occasions I would buy a couple of ounces of beef and a couple of kidney to make a beefsteak and kidney pie when we were expecting some friends to a meal. Beef was selling at thirty-two yen a pound and pork at thirty-six yen, but generally quite good fish was obtainable at six to fifteen yen a pound. Oysters were among the cheapest foods and often I would take home four ounces or one half-pound of oysters. With the high prices prevailing, the temptation to cheat on the weight sold was very great and so most of the marketers would carry with them their own steelyard to weigh their purchases. I found this a very useful practice and saved myself several dollars at times, by checking to see if I had been given the amount paid for.
The oyster women would sit cross-legged on the concrete floor of the market with pails or basins of shelled oysters before them. “How much for the oysters?” I would ask, and when I was a newcomer, they would generally ask me about three times what they asked from others. They soon got to recognize me, however, and would tell approximately the right price.
“Give me eight ounces!” and she would bring out a paper cornucopia (paper cone) and commence to pick out the poorest and most bedraggled specimens. I would pick out the ones I wanted myself and she would say, “He lo!”― “That’s enough!” and quickly weigh them on her scale, tie up the cornucopia with a piece of grass and pass it over to me saying, “Paat Jiang. Sam ko yuen” meaning “eight ounces, three yen.” Before giving her the desired three yen, I would weigh the package and show her it was about two ounces short. Declaring that my scales were probably wrong, she would reluctantly open the package and throw in three or four miserable oysters and we would call the deal closed.
Though the marketing often gave a measure of interest to our day, there was another side to these outings, for one often saw such terrible sights as would sometimes haunt one for days.
On the street near the market were a number of eating stalls where various kinds of prepared foods were sold, generally little bowls of red beans or macaroni, or various small cakes to be eaten on the spot.
Standing near the stalls, with wolfish eyes, watching every move of the would-be purchasers, were always gaunt and starving youths and men. Let some poor woman purchase a cake or bun and turn away from the stall with it uneaten, immediately one of these poor, famished creatures would swoop down on her like a vulture and seize the piece from her very lips cramming it down his own throat in one convulsive movement.
Sometimes these poor beasts of prey would become too bold and endanger their sales, and then the stall-keeper would rush out with a heavy bamboo pole and belabor them on head and back, thinking nothing if the poor creature were knocked senseless on the paving blocks.
At times, Japanese police would take a hand, attacking with Jujitsu one of these poor starving fellows, would send him crashing to the pavement with such force that his bones would be broken and he would lie groaning, while the brave gendarme would walk swaggering off, proud of the exhibition of his skill and strength.
Daily, as we walked the streets, we would see poor starved men, women, and children lying on the pavement too weak to move or already dead. Their numbers were so great and the general poverty so intense that there were very few able to do anything to relieve their suffering. Sad to say, suffering and fear were so common that most people grew more or less inured to the suffering of others. Often were we reminded of the words of the Lamentation of Jeremiah, and could not help feeling that much of that which caused his tears to run down was being repeated in our own day.
Shortly before we received our passes, we were given European rations instead of the Chinese rations we had been buying formerly. This allowed us six pounds of flour, each, per month, and about the same amount of rice.
The flour was usually quite good, and we were truly thankful to be able to get it. The rice was, however, very poor, often just broken grains, full of dirt, worms and cockroach dung. When we received our ration, every third day, we would first wash it well and then spread it out on a canvas cot to dry. Then we had to go over it, grain by grain, cleansing out all the extraneous worms and dirt, and there always seemed a very, very much smaller quantity of rice when it was clean.
Not long after our move, we received the gratifying news that by arrangements with the British Government, the Red Cross Society was to give out a monthly allowance to all British subjects or dependents. It was only a small allowance of about forty yen each, and did not do much more than pay for our monthly flour, cooking oil and rice, but we were thankful for it. At that time, we again had a household of three, and with the greatest economy found that our monthly expenditure was generally three hundred sixty yen, so that the balance had to be made up each month by sales of personal goods.
It was wonderful how we proved that the Lord’s eye was watching over our circumstances all through this time. Often when we were out of funds, we would have a visit from one or other of our dear Chinese friends, bringing something to tide us over the difficult days until we could sell something. Finally, we had sold practically everything that we could get a market for, and wondered how we would eke out our next month’s small allowance from the Red Cross, when we received the joyful news that we were to be repatriated before that time came.
After spending seven months in our new quarters, it became necessary for us to move elsewhere. Our kind landlord had been forced to sell the house in which he was living, and had nothing for it, but to live in that in which we were installed. The Chinese tenants below us had already moved from the downstairs apartment but, with his large household to provide for, it was necessary that Mr. J. should have the whole house.
Once again, we proved our Father’s gracious care, for it was not long before we had another apartment offered to us.
One day when out house hunting, I met a young Goanese who had formerly been a well-known athlete in Hong-Kong. I mentioned to him my present situation and asked if he could tell of any place that might be available.
“I have a friend in a bank in Hong Kong who owns some property just around the corner from here, and last week, I heard him say he was looking for someone to live in the lower flat as he feared looters might break in. Perhaps that is still vacant.”
He promised he would try and see his friend and let me know the results, but as I did not see him for about a week, I feared that his quest must have been unsuccessful. Words could not express our gratification, therefore, when he called one night with the good news that the flat was still unoccupied.
“My friend was very pleased to hear of you, and told me to tell you you might live there rent-free, as he has been very worried since the last tenants went to Macau,” and so a few days later we were again on the move.
This time, we had only a short distance to move, and being in a more European community did not expect to have any difficulties. Instead of employing a mover, we borrowed a little wagon and with the able assistance of our good Mr. R. L. and a neighboring Chinese pastor, we moved everything ourselves.
The new apartment was on the ground floor and had all the floor in concrete, which proved very cool and comfortable during the hot days of summer. The rooms were large, and high ceilings added to the impression of spaciousness, which made our few pieces of furniture seem almost lost. An added attraction to the apartment was that it had been the home of our friend Mr. L. and his mother, years before, when I had first known them.
Being on the ground floor, the windows and doors were all heavily protected with bars and grills, making us feel almost as though we were living in a prison, but we had not been there long before we realized why the landlord was so eager to have tenants, because we could hear, night after night, the sound of saws and pounding of sledge-hammers, as gangs of looters stripped some apartments across the street which had become empty.
One Sunday evening, we had a visit from a young Chinese lady who was a Canadian citizen and a graduate of McGill. She told us she had learned that there was to be a repatriation of Canadians shortly and all were supposed to give in their names immediately.
“I am going to give my name to the Swiss Consul tomorrow morning and will give yours also, if you wish,” she informed us.
We could hardly settle down quietly after that. To think that perhaps in a few more weeks we should be leaving Hong Kong with all its sorrows and fears! But then we thought of all the good friends we should be leaving behind, for whom there was no such hope of deliverance, and our joy at the prospect was very much tempered; indeed, we had some feeling of being “quitters.”
On Wednesday, we were at a Bible Reading in a Chinese home, and Miss W. who had promised to enter our names, came in late, so that we had no opportunity to speak to her until after the meeting. I fear that I did not follow the chapter before us as closely as I should have!
After the close of the meeting, she came up with a sober countenance. “I am sorry,” she said, “but I was too late. The Swiss Consul told me he had already sent off his list of names on Saturday morning. He says we will have to wait until there is another ship.”
I felt rather like a pricked balloon and all our friends crowded about, unselfishly voicing their sympathy and regrets that our anticipated cup of joy should have been so speedily dashed to the ground.
My wife took it very calmly, saying, “Oh, well! We know that whatever the Lord orders for us must be for the best. He will provide for us in some way, even as He has in the past.”
That night before retiring we sang together that hymn which had often cheered us in the past:
“How good is the God we adore,
Our faithful, unchangeable Friend,”
and the closing lines seemed to steady and comfort our hearts:
“We’ll praise Him for all that is past,
And trust Him for all that’s to come.”
About three weeks after this, we were surprised one evening when a young Chinese girl rode up on a bicycle and rang our doorbell.
When we unlocked the grating and asked her in, she handed me a letter, saying:
“I am from the Department of Foreign Affairs; you are to go there at ten thirty on Monday morning. Be sure you are there, it’s very important. It’s about your repatriation.”
We assured her we would not fail to be present and indeed we found the waiting time till Monday morning very trying.
On Monday, when we reached the Hong Kong and Shanghai Bank Building, which housed the Department of Foreign Affairs, we found a number of others there on the same errand, most of them U. S. citizens, but a few Canadians, elderly people or of Chinese parentage.
We were herded together and then addressed by the second-in-command of the department who told us that our names had been forwarded to Washington and that we would probably leave Hong Kong on September 25th. Before that date we were to undergo numerous vaccinations and injections and must appear three times a week at the Department for further instructions.
We wondered very much how it was that our names had been included on the list sent to Washington, and later learned that was another wonderful proof of the watchful care of our gracious Lord.
On the day the lists were to be sent off, the Swiss Consul had met an Austrian friend who had been secretary to the Bishop of Hong Kong before the war. In the course of conversation, he mentioned that he had been collecting the names of the U. S. citizens and Canadians to forward to Tokyo and Washington for repatriation.
Dr. H. asked him: “Did you have Mr. and Mrs. Collier on your lists?”
“I don’t remember the names. Where do they live and who are they?” the Consul inquired.
Dr. H. did not know our address, but said he had heard that we were somewhere in Kowloon and knew we were Canadians.
“Do you think they wish to be repatriated?” was the next question, to which Dr. H. replied readily, “I cannot imagine any sane person not wishing to get away from Hong Kong under present conditions.” The Consul promised to add our names before sending away the list.
How often we see such examples of what the world might call “beneficent coincidences,” but which we know to be God’s overruling, so that we can say, “We know that all things work together for good to them that love God.”
During the next few weeks, we were quite busy preparing, but what struck us most forcibly was the unselfish way in which all our friends rejoiced with us that we were to be delivered out of that furnace of affliction. At that time, it was impossible to foresee the end of the struggle, and we all knew that conditions were steadily getting more difficult and would continue to do so for the months or years that remained before victory.
Also it seemed very likely that when the war came close to Hong Kong, the Japanese would vent their rage in fresh atrocities against those who were helpless in their hands, but the experiences we all had of God’s care and provision in the former months, gave us confidence that He would not fail though the times might grow never so desperate.
Before we finally got off we had one more time of testing.
One morning, I called at the Foreign Affairs Office as we had been ordered. The clerk had a long list of names in his hand and when we had all gathered, he addressed us thus:
“I have now received from Tokyo the final list of those who have been approved by Washington to go. Any others who were expecting to go will not be able to do so.”
Then he read over the list, and I listened with straining ears, but our names were not included! Again, a second time, he went over the list. I paid little attention to the names that were there but had a feeling akin to despair as I realized that our names, were, indeed, omitted.
Immediately after, I went up to him and asked, “What has Washington to do with deciding about the Canadians? We do not come under U. S. jurisdiction!”
“I am sorry, but there is an agreement between Canada and U. S. by which Washington is allowed to make the decision as to who shall be repatriated,” he replied rather glibly.
I went home feeling rather annoyed and wishing that our names had never been mentioned, but again my wife took the right view of things, saying, “We will not be any worse off than our friends, and it will be thrilling if we are here when the British again take over Hong Kong.”
Next morning, however, I had again to call at the Foreign Affairs Office, and while there the official who had read out the names came over to me.
“I made a mistake yesterday, Mr. Collier. There were no Canadian names on that list, because all the Canadians are to go.”
I speedily completed my business and hurried home to tell my wife the news, and we bowed together to thank the Lord that He had so ordered for us.
At last, we got word that the “Teia Maru,” formerly a liner of the French “Messageries Maritimes” Lines, was to be off Stanley Camp on September 23rd to pick up all repatriates and would take them to God, a Portuguese colony in India, where they would be transferred to the Swedish liner “Gripsholm” for the journey back to New York.
On the 22nd, we attended a last Bible Reading and our dear friends had prepared a little farewell tea, eked out of their own scanty food resources.
We hurried home to finish our packing, and our unwearied friend Mr. L. appeared to give us his able assistance. We had been instructed that we were to be at a Chinese hotel on the Hong Kong waterfront early the following day, but to be sure that there might be no last-minute hindrances we had decided to spend our last night at the hotel, so as to be on the spot bright and early.
About seven o’clock that evening, we started out for the ferry in three rickshaws, Mr. L. accompanying us to the ferry. The rain was pouring down in torrents and he had come lightly dressed and was soaking wet, but as always, hearty and cheerful and apparently with no thought but of happiness that we were being delivered out of the pit that was Hong Kong in those days.
Early next morning we were up and dressed, and then had to wait for the arrival of some repatriates from Canton, among whom we were happy to find several old friends.
About eleven o’clock, we were herded on to a tug and started out around the end of the Island for Stanley Peninsula. The wind and rain were almost at storm pitch and the little boat was closed in with tarpaulins so that we could not see very much, but as it tossed and pitched in the heavy seas, we caught occasional glimpses of familiar spots on the shore which appeared to have been little altered by the ravages of war.
After about two hours tossing, we came into more sheltered waters opposite Stanley Camp and there looked out and saw the long gray hull of the “Teia Maru;” and when we came closer saw that the decks were already crowded with hundreds of passengers being repatriated from camps in Japan and Northern China.
We wondered expectantly whom we should find awaiting us on board, but were not to know immediately, for we were first taken ashore at Stanley and our suitcases searched by the Japanese. We had been precisely warned that we could carry only one book, a Bible, which must have no marking on it. A passport or a birth certificate was also allowed, but nothing else with writing or printing, and no photographs or pictures.
The inspection over, we were joined up with the group of Canadians and U. S. citizens to be repatriated from the Camp and then taken aboard tugs and out to the “Teia Maru.”
We were still “Prisoners of War” and in the hands of the enemy but to be aboard the ship which should take us to the place of freedom, was, in itself, a very cheering thought.
About five o’clock, with three long blasts on her horn, the vessel pulled up anchor and got underway. Back in Stanley Camp, we could dimly see little figures at all points of vantage, waving bravely to their more favored friends who were on their way to freedom.
As we turned below for our first meal that night, we could not but look back in retrospect over the years that had passed and our hearts were filled with thanksgiving for the goodness and mercy of God that had kept us in safety through all those experiences. I thought again of the sense of disappointment and sorrow that had filled me when it appeared as though, after all our hopes and expectations, we were to be left behind, and would have to face the even more terrible times that we all could see were coming. How thankful I was that our names had appeared on the list after all.
Surely, this was a parable reminding me of a time that is surely coming when a great separation will come to this world. Then it will be those whose names are written in the Lamb’s Book of Life, who have put their trust in the Lord Jesus Christ as Savior, who will be taken out of this scene and delivered, forever, from the terrible times of judgment that, even now, we can see the world hastening on to
As we have written of the wonderful experiences of God’s loving kindness which we had through those years, it has been with the hope that all who read this account may be brought to know for themselves the love and faithfulness of God, and believing on His Son, may know themselves “Beloved of the Lord,” objects of His care.