56 Coy operated Standard and Austin staff cars, Morris busses for School Runs (Service children, MQs to Forces Educational Estabs, for the use of), Bedford 3-ton RLs for loads and TCVs for troops, and good old tinny Land Rovers. Section Commanders used BSA 500cc motorbikes, some Matchless, and another make I can’t remember. The bikes, great though they were, were not ridden very often although Drivers filled their Zippo lighters up by dipping them on the end of a length of string into the fuel tanks. All the Staff Cars were in my domain as Details NCO A (Car) Platoon. I had to ensure they were serviced at right intervals, fully equipped with a Driver dressed in regulation togs, and that both vehicle and man attended at the due time of their transport detail.

56 Coy HQ had an alternative Causeway Bay location within the Golden Eagle Bar, Grill & Nightclub, operating between 6 pm and 4 a.m., longer at weekends. It was known as alt-HQ by those few worthies (a) who were aware of it and (b) who belonged to it and this is one of the few instances where details contained in sub paragraphs (a) and (b) are identical. The names of those in the know were 2ic Capt Jimmy Jeans, CSM Christie, Sgt Ken Ainscough, Cpls Ray Egan, Jack Fielding and Luigi Valentino Rigsby, LCpls Malcom Laver and Jim Wiesen, and Privates Manning, Fowler, Phelan and, apart from me, these are the last Europeans you’ll read about here.

The most important elements of 56 Coy were the 230 locally enlisted soldiers, 99% of them Chinese. The two non-Chinese were Raboo Said, a Singaporean, and Robert Moore, whose mum was Chinese and his dad Irish (Eire). Rob’s parents were interned with all suspect racial groups in the Colony on the Japanese invasion in December 1941 but Mr Moore demanded a recount. When finally allowed to meet the Japanese commander, he managed to persuade him he & his family and homeland, and Emperor Hirohito & his Empire, were all on the same side. Much to Mr Moore and history’s surprise the Japanese eventually relented and released them from captivity.

Locally enlisted Privates, Drivers and junior NCOs (there were a couple of Sergeants) were paid at the rate of about a third of “British ORs” pay, which always embarrassed me on weekly paydays. They were not required to live in barracks unless on duty and, though they lived at home “on the local economy” they didn’t even draw ration allowance. I always thought it a poor trick to pay on a host of hard working soldiers as, after all, they donned battle-gear and stood side by side with us for Internal Security ops and exes.

With the notable exception of Cpl Chan Chun Lun, about whom more later, my friends in A (Car) Pl were mostly in the 18-25 years (i.e. marriageable) age group and a spin-off was my social life was fairly hectic in my 18 months with the unit because of Chinese Wedding Syndrome. This was where I was ‘cordilly invettid’ to attend wedding after wedding as the lads in A (Car) fell to marriage: Chan Wai Kwong, Choi Hung Sun, Chung Ting Yau, Fung Kwan Yui, Kam Peter, Ko Foo Ching, Kwong Kam Moon also known as Lawrence Kwong, Lee Chi Ming, Lee Hoi Hum, Lee Kwan Ning, Lee Pui, Lee Chi Wah not to be confused with Lee Chi Wan, Lee Sum Ting, Leung Yau Sin, Mok Shing Kwong, Mok Siu Ting, Ng Shui Kee, Ng Tom Mui, Siu Kueng Hong, Tam Hop, Tam Shui Kwong, To Tung Sau, Tang Man, Wong Sam Lum and Yeung Hoi.

A Chinese Wedding is different. The ceremony itself may be small and intimate but at Dinner you get 600 to 1000 “family and friends” at the one sitting and diners sit at large circular tables with 15 eaters, one of whom is nominated “Honoured Guest.” Dinners consist of from 8 or 9 courses up to 15 or 16 courses so, taking an average 800 diners and 12 courses, the waiters were always near-hysterical wrecks. Also, as I was invariably the only European at these functions, I was always some table-for-15’s “Honoured Guest” – great for the ego. However, I’m a believer in silver clouds having dark linings and the dark lining was my being served up the “Honoured Guest’s Delicacy,” the cooked head of the chicken course, complete with comb, eyeballs and crop, presented to me under a cup on a saucer. I was expected to eat AND ENJOY it and every one of my fellow diners would watch to make sure I did, a task I accomplished twenty six times, about once every three weeks. Yuch!

The other suspect benefit of Honoured Guestness came when the Bridegroom did his obligatory tables tour. Accompanied by his blushing bride (the butt of loud and smutty comments from diners), he would approach the Honoured Guest, who else?, for the “Yam Sing” Toast. The first time this happened I jumped in and followed where I was led by my nose. The Groom held up a glass of clear liquid (“…aw, it only lice wine”) for me to clink using the filled tumbler set at my place. He offered me “Yam Sing!” I responded “Yam Sing!” and as he upended his glass and swallowed his in a gulp I twigged and did likewise - big mistake! Nice wee mellow wine it ain’t, big rough and tough diesel fuel oil it is!!! My dry retching was accompanied by a lot of guffawing but I learnt a valuable lesson. The response I should have given, I discovered, was to say “Yam Ching” under which both toaster and toastee may take just a sip.

I’ll close with Cpl Chan Chun Lun. When Hong Kong was reoccupied after Japan’s surrender (I was 7 years old) the first to march over the border was a 4,000-strong Infantry Brigade of the Chinese Army. In command was Colonel Chan Chun Lun who, thirteen years later, I served with when we were both corporals in the RASC.