S I N G A

The Lion of Malaya

BEING THE MEMOIRS OF

GURCHAN SINGH Who organised a Resistance Movement in Malaya

during the Japanese Occupation

P R I N T C R A F J ?

c - ^ y c m ^ e d Kuala Lumpur : Federation of Malaya

C H I E F M E M B E R S O F T H E S I N G A

O R G A N I S A T I O N

who voluntarily and independently worked for the cause of the Allies during the Japanese occupa-tion of Malaya at the risk of torture and death. All rendered invaluable service and stood loyal and true under conditions of grave danger and hardship. Some sacrificed their comfort and happiness; others bravely endured torture at the hands of the Japanese; others gave up their lives. They all sincerely fought for freedom. Many of them are mentioned in this book. In honour of them all their names are given here.

DR. ABDUL GHANI

ANTHONY A S H

ARUNASALEM, N .

ASTER GUNASEKARA

AUGUSTIN LYE NYEN

Foo BALAKRISHNAN, M .

BEHARA SINGH,

Sub-Inspector •BHAGAT SINGH GILL

SGT. BUGHAR SINGH

*BHAG SINGH

CHANAN SINGH

CHONG TAK NGIT

GURDIAL SINGH

GURNAM SINGH BULL

•JOHN SANDASAMY

KEHAR SINGH

KHEM SINGH

* Tortured

* D R . KOK H O TEIK

LEONG H E W MENG

LEONG KAI SWEE

MADAME LAU PENG

K I M

RAMASAMY GANGA

RAMASAMY PAKRY

RODRIGO, B . M .

SARJEET SINGH

SARMUKH SINGH,

Inspector SUPPIAH, P .

TAN BENG HOCK

TAN BENG SAN

THIRUNALAN, M .

TOH CHIN GUAN

YAP GHIM LEONG

YAP GHIM HOE •

>YEOH CHAI LYE

by the Kempetei.

THIS BOOK IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY

OF ALL WHO GAVE VP THEIR LIVES IN THE ALLIED CAUSE.

R O L L O F H O N O U R .

They died that Freedom might live. *DAN SINGH, Inspector

GURBACHAN SINGH

FLSMAIL DE SLLVA

*LALL SINGH BULL

*Low GHEE BENG, Inspector SHANMUGAM, M .

TEJA SINGH

* Died as a result of Japanese torture,

t Executed by the Japanese.

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

The author wishes to express a deep sense of gratitude to Mrs. Lillian Buckoke for encouraging him to record his wartime experiences.

• H B H I

fa

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C O N T E N T S

Chapter Page

I BEFORE THE STORM 1

II ALONE IN KUALA LUMPUR 3

IN SENTENCED TO DEATH 12

IV THE SINGA ROARS 2 3

V DINNER WITH THE GESTAPO 4 3

VI A JAPANESE PRESS CONFERENCE 51

VII MILKMAN BY DAY, BILL-POSTER BY NIGHT 61

VIH ONE-MAN JOB 7 0

IX O N THE RUN 81

X SINGAPORE BOUND 1 0 0

XI PLANNING THE GREAT TREK NORTH 113

XII TRAIN JUMPING 1 1 9

XIH WORKING FOR THE JAPS 134

XIV A MERRY BONFIRE 146

XV THE RAILROAD O F DEATH 151

XVI THE REWARD O F GOD 161

CHAPTER I

BEFORE THE STORM

THE Malay Peninsula, just north of the Equator, east of Sumatra and south of Thailand, was under the protection of Britain before the Japanese invasion in 1941. This ever-green and sunny land, rich in rubber and tin, consisted of divers races who lived harmoniously and peace-fully amongst themselves.

In this "paradise" I was born in May, 1914. As I grew up I was sent to an English school, which in fact was an American Methodist Mission school—the Methodist Boy's School. My teachers were American, British, Chinese, Indian, Malay—and Japanese as well. They made my life a happy one and I loved them all.

This early life, in spite of having been a happy one, had been full of adventure, the nature of which any youth would envy. According to my mother, adventure always dogged my foot-steps even as a child. I had nearly been eaten by an alligator when I was two months old and only just escaped drowning before I was six.

At the age of thirteen I became much interested in sport of all kinds, for I loved out-door life. In 1930 I established a new long-distance walking record, covering a distance of 63 miles in 21 hours. This is still a Malayan record. I took part in many cycling competitions whilst still at school and won several of them. I was also keen on cricket and football. Then in 1932 came the chance of a lifetime for any schoolboy, when as an out-door man I was selected with another Malayan fo join an expedi-tion to Mount Everest.

My last year at school in 1933 was a fateful one, not only for me but also for all other youngsters, who after completing school had no chance to get a job, Malaya was experiencing a

2 terrific slump. Men who had already worked in Government Service for some years were being retrenched from various departments. At the end of this fateful year I sat for my Cambridge examination, and three months later when results were known I passed unexpectedly with flying colours.

The conditions in my home in Kuala Lumpur were none too good either. My family owned a couple of small rubber estates, and we had been badly effected by the worst slump in Malaya's history. I was thus forced to look out for a job, which was far from easy in view of the wide-spread unemployment.

Owing to the influence I had gained by my outdoor activities, coupled with the popularity I had gained on account of the Mount Everest Expedition, I was nevertheless confident of getting a job somewhere. But what sort of work did I want? I pondered long over that question, because I knew that the decision would deter-mine my whole future career.

I decided finally to join the Police as a recruit constable and worked hard for five years, after which I was made a detective—due to some of the natural qualities I appear to have possessed. At the time when this story of my underground activities commences I was therefore a Detective constable; but after the war I was promoted to Police Inspector and later to Assistant Superintendent of Police. Since the middle of 1957 I have been appointed to a Superscale post.

That, in short, is my life story; so now let us get on with the underground story about which this book* is written; but before that is done I would like to remind the reader 'that I hold no contempt for the Japanese or any of their collaborators. That contempt ended when Japan was forced to lay down her arms. After all, war is war.

3

CHAPTER II

ALONE IN KUALA LUMPUR THE Japanese landed at Kota Bahru on the north-eastern coast of Malaya on the night of 8th December, 1941. Four days later they had not only established a good foothold near the invasion points, but also pierced the Jitra Line in north Kedah. The whole state of Kedah was soon in their hands, including two big aero-dromes at Alor Star and Sungei Patani. To us at Ipoh, where I was stationed at the time, it was obvious that our forces were retreating.

On the afternoon of 14th December my superior British officer, Mr. D. W. Yates, called me to his office. "We've received orders from H.Q. in Kuala Lumpur," he said, "to intern all women of Japanese nationality not interned with the men at the outbreak of war."

By half-past seven that evening I had seen that all these women—about fifty of them—were interned, and reported to the officer concerned. He told me that they were to be transported to Batu Gajah Gaol early next morning. As luck would have it, no transport was available then; so they were left where they were.

That morning at about 11 o'clock I was on my rounds with my assistant detective, Kehar Singh, checking up on the sentries and internees, when an alert was sounded and planes were reported to be approaching Ipoh. I was un-certain what to do, but finally decided to ask the internees to go to the shelters. They looked rather happy on learning that Japanese bombers were coming. Some of them prepared to go, while others seemed reluctant and insisted on staying behind. The sentries appeared nervous and wanted to take to the shelters, so I let them follow the Japanese women. I told Kehar Singh to take charge there, remaining outside myself.

4 Two minutes later I heard the drone of

planes, and within a few seconds ground ack-ack fire told me that they were Japanese. Then I caught sight of them flying some distance away. Later I heard terrific explosions—the aerodrome was probably being bombed. I began to feel nervous myself.

At last I could no longer hear the drone of the planes. I lifted my head and looked around. Two of the hotels where the Japanese women were interned had been hit, and a bomb had fallen about 30 feet away from me. My heart was beating fast, and it was some time before I could control my fear caused by the blast of the bombs. The all-clear sounded, and I got out of the drain. There right in front of me was the wrecked hotel in whifh some of the Japanese women had taken shelter. Horrified, I rushed towards it. Some women lying on the ground seemed to be dead, others were crying. On seeing me, one of them pointed to a lady half-buried in the debris. At once I began to clear away the rubble, and was soon joined by Detective Kehar Singh. We made so little pro-gress that others came to our assistance. When we pulled her out, she was dead—her whole face had been crushed. Two others died soon after being rescued, and three badly injured were taken to hospital.

On the afternoon of 23 rd December, after Ipoh had suffered its worsf bombardment, I was told that the town was going to be evacuated next morning, and that all the bridges were being mined by the sappers and were to be blown up. On leaving Ipoh, we went thirty-six miles south to Tapfah, from where we retreated three days later to Kuala Lumpur, the Federal Capital. Here I was attached to the office of Mr, J. D. Dalley, Director, Criminal Intelligence Branch, and became assistant to Mr. D. N. Livingstone who was dealing with Fifth Column cases.

5 When I left Tapah the fighting line was

between Kuala Dipang and Kampar—a distance of about three miles, and about twenty miles south of Ipoh where for the first time since retreating from the Jitra Line the British Forces made a stand. The battle had been in progress there for some days when the Japanese landed on the west coast near Telok Anson at the mouth of the Perak River, coming in boats and barges. About the same time more enemy landings were reported from further south. Afraid of being cut off by these landings, the British Forces retreated to their next fighting position in the Slim River area, leaving behind a detachment of Indians to carry on the fight at Kuala Dipang. Although they received no protection from constant Japanese air attack, these Indians fought on heroically for three days and nights until all of them were wiped out.

From then onwards the fate of the British depended on the stand they could put up at the Slim River Line, about fifty miles south of Kuala Dipang. It was generally believed that they could hold it at least for a time; but without air support it proved impossible. Even to retreat was hard. It could only be done at night.

After wiping out the Indian column at Kuala Dipang, the Japanese Forces advanced south to meet their comrades coming from Telok Anson and then on towards the Slim River Line. With the vigilant Japanese Air Force hovering in the skies, undisturbed from morn to night, the British Forces had no time to dig themselves in. On January 9th there were rumours that the Japanese had actually effected a landing at Port Swettenham.

"If Kuala Lumpur has to be evacuated, Gurchan Singh, are you prepared to go?" Mr. Livingstone asked me. I replied that I was ready to leave whenever I was given the order. "Very good," he said.

fl 6 v 4 began to wonder, however, whether I could

not fight the Japanese more effectively by staying in K^fala Lumpur than by going with the British to Singapore. It was a new idea to me, and seemed worth serious consideration; but L was stiU undecided as to what was the best way'of helping the British to stop the Japanese from advancing any further. If I stayed behind, how was I going to fight the Japanese? I was even more worried as to what I could say to Mr. Livingstone at the office. Would he believe in the sincerity of my suggestion? He would have to mention it to Mr. Dalley, the Director, and what would they say? I was afraid that they might misunderstand me. It would be dreadful if they thought that my morale was gone, and that I was making blind excuses in an attempt to avoid going to Singapore. All these thoughts led me nowhere, and I was still wondering what to do when I reached my office.

As I set to work every now and then I looked at Mr. Livingstone's worried face, studying it to see if he w?" in -a good or a bad mood. I had to make sure that- he was in a good mood before approaching him with my suggestion. I waited two hours, then broke the ice by saying somewhat nervously, "With regard to what you said this morning, sir, about evacuating Kuala Lumpur if need be, may I make a suggestion?"

"Well, what is it?" he said, looking me straight in the face. "Don't tell me that you don't want to go to Singapore."

That made me even more nervous, and I had difficulty in finding the right words to express myself; but somehow I managed to say, "It isn't that I don't want to go to Singapore, nor that I'm afraid; but I've had an idea. I don't think it would do the Government any good if I evacuate; but there's something I could do here which might help the British. By remaining behind in Kuala Lumpur I could form some units

7 that could do guerrilla warfare. Though I've had no actual military training I learnt enough as a Boy Scout to organize resistance here."

Mr. Livingstone looked thoughtful and said he would consult the Director about it, so I went back to my desk. Since it seemed possible now that I might stay behind, I began to wonder what I could really do. Would it be as easy as I imagined? Would I dare to act when the time came? As a policeman, I had no fear of not daring to act. But, of course, it all depended on Mr. Dalley, the Director, and he might think my proposal a mad idea. All I could do was to keep my fingers crossed? as one does when expect-ing news of promotion or things of that sort. But evening came and Mr. Livingstone left without saying any more to me.

It was the middle of the next day before I saw Mr. Livingstone again, and then he merely shook his head, saying that orders to evacuate had now come and asked me whether I was willing to go. I replied that I was, so he told me to go home and pack up and he would call for me in the afternoon. i

When I broke the news to my wife she started sobbing and my aged mother followed suit. It took me well over an hour to console them. I gave my wife $1,5Q0 out of the two thousand I had and kept the rest for myself. Then with mixed feelings I prepared some clothes to take with me and waited for Mr. Livingstone the whole afternoon and evening, but he did not turn up. Next morning when I awoke I began to worry about him, but wishfully thought that perhaps the evacuation had been cancelled after all. I told my family so at breakfast, and they looked somewhat happier. After breakfast I decided to call on Mr. Livingstone at his house on the opposite hill, but on arrival found it locked-up and no one about, not even the servants.

8 I cycled on to the office. To my surprise it

was also deserted except for a few clerks, who, like myself, were bewildered to discover that all the officers had apparently left during the night. Passing through the town I found that the bridges had been blown up, and crowds of people loaded with loot were rushing in and out of the aban-doned shops. Godowns stacked full of rice and sugar had been broken open and were being looted of their contents. Shots were being fired on all sides. Some people were just firing at random for the first time in their lives.

Deciding that the town was not a healthy spot, I returned home feeling very sad and dis-appointed. Moreover, many questions were turning over in my mind. What could have happened to Mr. Livingstone? I could not understand why he had not come to fetch me after promising to do so. Worse still, I felt hope-lessly sad at having lost so many friends, and I could not believe that the evacuation had actually taken place. It all seemed like a dream. Yet j there I was, left behind in Kuala Lumpur, not jl knowing what to do next.

On January 11th, 1942, the Federal Capital had become a no-man's land. Huge volumes of smoke from burning petrol set alight by the retreating forces covered the sky. Millions of gallons of petrol were burning with a frightful crackling noise. Everything was topsy-turvy. Shots from rifles of all sorts could be heard everywhere. People were still looting the shops, carrying away their booty, and some were engaged in a free-for-all fight over the division of the stolen goods. The wounded lay un-attended on the roadside amid the bodies of the dead.

That evening when I returned home all eyes of the family were on me. I passed them as though I had not seen them and went straight to my study, where I sat at my desk planning my