From Macau through China to India and Burma
Hong Kong Portuguese in the Chindits
Anne Ozorio February 2003
When Hong Kong refugees poured out of Hong Kong after its occupation by the Japanese in December 1941, many were destitute. In Macau those who could claim any kind of British connection were supported by the British Consul, John Reeves, in conjunction with the Red Cross and local charities. Reeves very firmly insisted that the British Government had to accept responsibility, not only for humanitarian reasons but because the alternative would fuel Japanese propaganda.
Many of the refugees who found haven in Macau were of Portuguese origin, even if the roots stretched back far in time. The Portuguese authorities and the Bishop of Macau turned no one away. The tiny enclave was flooded with hundreds of thousands of refugees, living on charity, usually without worthwhile work to do. Many of the refugees were men had fought in the fall of Hong Kong either with the regular forces or with the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Forces. Bored and frequently unemployed, many of the younger men among the refugees were fired up with idealism, many wanting to take an active part in the anti Japanese war effort. Many had skills to offer such as communications and weapons training. They spoke many dialects of Chinese and many also knew Japanese. Many had extensive knowledge of China and south east Asia and networks of contacts. Mostly western educated and middle class, they assumed that their skills would be appreciated.
Statistically there were more Chinese ex HKVDC in the China Group, the majority being overseas Chinese (usually South American) and Eurasian. For the purposes of this piece I focus in detail on the Hong Kong Portuguese though they made up just under a quarter of the group. Hong Kong being what it was, the lines between communities were blurred. The Portuguese had in common with the overseas Chinese and other Eurasians a mixed cultural background. Whatever their racial origins, they were not part of the Chinese community proper: they had no native ancestral village to return to, no place in traditional Chinese society. Some could not read or write Chinese, though all spoke various dialects. Yet these communities were also excluded from European society, and its racial prejudices. The overseas Chinese, Portuguese, Eurasian and western educated Chinese communities thus had much in common: any divisions being overcome by the fact that most people knew each other socially, from church, school or work. A detailed study of individuals shows how the communities interacted together – who knew whom, who married whom and so on. These people formed an extremely cohesive group which reflected some of the most active, able and articulate men from Hong Kong.
Hong Kong Portuguese knew they had a unique role to play. Reading their applications to join the “China Unit” I was struck by how enterprising these men were and the way the then Portuguese community were ensconced all over China and South East Asia. No wonder they had such empathy with the overseas Chinese, for they lived and worked in the same areas. The pattern of Hong Kong Portuguese settlement in Asia reflected not just the overseas Chinese but imitated ancient patterns of Portuguese settlement in Asia.
The Hong Kong Portuguese had a ethos of physical sport and training, so were drawn to membership in the Volunteer Defence Force Companies set up along the China Coast when it was set up during the First World War. Some families were particularly identified with the Volunteers. Rufino Lizola Rocha (b 1870) trained, as a police telegraphist in 1892, when telegraphy was the cutting edge of communications technology. Later he became a Junk Inspector for the Harbour Office. But his life revolved around the HKVDC where he specialised in training signalmen, eventually becoming commander of the Signals Section. It was said that the Volunteers were considered “very raw material, youths in their teens too young to bear arms”. Thus, Rocha “was to be seen in the Hong Kong Cricket Club early in the morning and evening putting charges through “Flag Waving” (Morse) or “Wind Filling” (Semaphore).(4) With this background of service and idealism it is no surprise that his family was quick to join in when war came. One son was killed in the 4th Battery of the HKVDC during the Battle of Hong Kong, a daughter died in bombing in Indo China. His two sons mentioned above and three grandsons, Eduardo, Luis and Carlos all volunteered to go into China, all five ending up as Sergeants. Indeed Estylito’s wife Rachel who spoke little English but was an “unlicensed driver” and seamstress, volunteered too, and accompanied the group to India, as did Eva, the 21 year old wife of Luis Rocha. Eduardo had been a despatch rider for the ARP, as had several Chinese in the group who escaped into China, so they probably knew each other. Intriguingly, shortly before the Japanese attack, a British press photographer was on location in Hong Kong and took a few dozen publicity photos of the ARP men, sitting on their motorcycles and posing in the streets. The photographer left Hong Kong literally days before the invasion, so the photos were not lost. By a fluke, Eduardo’s face may be among them.
Strictly speaking, as a diplomat, the British Consul in Macau was supposed to be neutral, but he interpreted his duties liberally, enjoying the tacit respect of the Japanese consul, Mr Fukui. Told that Hong Kong Volunteers who wanted to go to China should be organised, he delegated the organising of “Boat Groups” to Carlos Rocha and DM Remedios and several others. The groups left Macau by junk from April 1943 , the last group leaving in December 1943.
Ben Xavier, scion of the Sarrazolla Xavier family whose ancestors had been in the Portuguese Navy, was himself a member of the British Navy when the Japanese attacked. Held in prisoner-of-war camp he was told by his senior officer that non-whites should escape if they had a chance, so he slipped out unnoticed. Getting a Portuguese passport through the Portuguese Consul in Hong Kong, he soon left for Macau, hoping to go into Free China. He described leaving Macau in a junk, sailing just before midnight. There were 40 to 50 people on this trip, including Duarte Remedios, Bobby Leonard, Defunto da Silva, Percy Tonnochy, the Maxwell Brothers and Mrs Wilson, wife of a Police Officer in Hong Kong whose security connections had led to her appointment as holder of intelligence communications in Macau. When she left she handed her duties over to Dr Eddie Gosano another Hong Kong Portuguese who had escaped from prisoner of war camp. After their trip upriver, they landed at the town of Toi Shan from which they were carried in sedan chairs for a while, later walking or riding in trucks. They reconvened in Kweilin, where they were to remain in a camp awaiting further orders. As it happened, this was to take months.
Since it had been decreed that men ceased to be HKVDC on leaving Macau, but did come officially onto the British establishment until they arrived in India, the men were promised only basic subsistence. In May 1943, no funds were provided for the 156 men already collected. The men were destitute, since they were dependent on handouts, back pay being withheld until they signed the final documents before leaving China. To save them from starvation, Carlos Rocha contributed $688 per day of his savings, until his funds ran out. The British Consul in Kweilin had to make special arrangements to support the men. Rocha also acted as a sort of unofficial leader, looking after many of the men in Kweilin from other groups. For example, he personally vouched for Peter Maxwell also known as Peter Mak, a Eurasian who had resigned without permission from the British Army before the war because he needed a better paying job. He was completely candid about this, but the British authorities in China objected even though the Army in Hong Kong had taken no action at the time. Rocha pleaded leniency: Maxwell, who desperately needed the job in China, as he had a large family to support, was accepted.
In addition to the former Volunteers, there was a core of men who had served professionally in the regular Forces, who had military training and experience, and assumed their skills would be in demand when they escaped into China. Rocha looked after four of them, PL Lam of the Royal Engineers, FM Tavares, Royal Navy, Ben Sarazolla Xavier RN and RG Laurel, admiralty clerk, arrived in October 1942 and were billeted in a sampan, which Xavier described to me as being filthy, leaking and inadequate. Rocha managed to get their allowance raised, and they rented a place in a cheap hotel. Just as they had previously been left without support, by a clerical mix-up this group received double funds for a short time, which Rocha had to sort out.
With their knowledge and contact networks in China and South east Asia, their specialist training in wireless telegraphy and the fluency of a large number in Japanese, one might have assumed that these Hong Kong men might have been well utilised in China. However, they were held in a holding camp in Kweilin, some for many months while the British authorities in China pondered what to do with them. While in Kweilin, they were treated as if they were under military discipline even though they were not legally military personnel. It was a curious situation. The men were expected to behave as a fighting unit although they had no real role to play. This was particularly frustrating for the many men who were actually in serving forces, as they were placed under the supervision of civilians with limited military experience. Their skills and training counted for little in these circumstances. They were issued with numerous, detailed orders, but not told the purpose of their mission. Discipline was harsh – men had $100 of their pay deducted for smoking while on sentry duty or being late for parade. They spent a lot of time marching or playing football. Meanwhile they saw only too clearly that there was war and deprivation all round them, and the idealistic spirit with which they had set out was not being used. Unsurprisingly, this did develop tensions which the British Army Aid Group obliquely acknowledged. Some realised that they were living in a kind of limbo, and discharged themselves to get better jobs elsewhere, including in the Chinese Army and American military and intelligence agencies. The sojourn in the camp lasted six to eight months, though some had left earlier and were in a similar camp in Calcutta.
When many saw what pay they would be getting in India they baulked. In July 1943, out of 34 naval ratings, only 13 were willing to sign unconditionally. They were seamen who could not see what purpose they would serve on land, and outside China. Altogether of the 250 or more men in the holding camp, under 100 names appear on the list of the “China Unit” sent to India, though a few went on earlier, to stay in a similar camp in Calcutta. Pay would be 6 rupees a day, little better than subsistence. Moreover those with families had to send payments to China through British Banks in India at official, not black market, rates of exchange through British banks, which lowered the value and complicated the procedure. It became apparent too that allowances were not reaching China, and that families were being left destitute. Wives of men who had gone on ahead were turning up in distress, some reduced to begging in the streets. Those men who tried to get an advance to tide their families over were allowed only a maximum of $1000 Chinese dollars deducted from their HKVDC back pay, still unpaid after many months. Families that remained in Macau were relatively fortunate as they continued to be supported by the Consulate and Portuguese charities. In China, where there was less support and conditions were more chaotic, some men lost touch with their families altogether.
When orders finally came to move, the men were taken from Kweilin to Kunming in trucks, in small convoys. The roads were rough and dangerous, and conditions primitive. On one convoy, Sergeant Peter Quah (a St Joseph’s educated Malayan Chinese) reported that nearly all the men came down with fever en route. Reaching the borders of China, they were flown “over the Hump” (over the Himalayas) until they reached India. The planes were small, unheated and had a few wooden benches for seating. In India, men were assessed. Some went straight into military training, others were assigned where their professional training might be useful, as some had engineering and docks backgrounds. There was no overall plan, because the idea after all had been generated from China, not India.
Fortuitously, in India, General Orde Wingate had been preparing a specialist guerrilla force called the Chindits to harass the Japanese in Burma. They operated in the jungle, supplied only by airdrops. Harassing the Japanese behind their own lines, and then quickly disappearing back into the jungle, the Chindits tied the Japanese up, preventing them from fully committing to the front. Indeed, before the war, British military strategists had visualised carrying on the war in China along these lines, starting training schools in China and in Hong Kong itself. Fortunately for the Hong Kong men, their presence in India became known to Brigadier “Mad Mike” Calvert, a charismatic, unconventional man who had developed jungle warfare techniques. He had himself been in Hong Kong before the war, spoke broken Cantonese and appreciated the spunky character of the HKVDC. He also saw the advantage of using men who looked more like Japanese than Burmese in the jungle, since local tribes were by no means uniformly anti-Japanese. Thus he invited the Hong Kong men to join his unit, the 77th Brigade.
For men who had grown up in an urban environment with servants, cushioned in middle class comfort, the Hong Kong group did remarkably well in the jungle. They were on their feet most of the time, always moving to avoid detection. The jungle was dense and they had to hack their way through where there were no trails. The terrain was mountainous, with steep uphill climbs followed by sharp, slippery descents. Sometimes, they went without food or water for days as their supplies depended on air drops which could not be often be reached in time. They suffered tropical diseases with a ferocity unknown in Hong Kong, in a climate even hotter and steamier. All the time, they were trailing the Japanese, suspicious of villagers who might betray them. Their previous experience in the New Territories was no preparation for the snakes, leeches and poisonous insects of Burma. Perhaps there was something in the Hong Kong background that had fostered adaptability and endeavour : for many it was the formative adventure of their lives.
Nonetheless, for many men, this was the experience of a lifetime. They were young, and filled with the excitement of travel and adventure. Many were infused with idealism and the need to do something for the community in any capacity. The spirit of Jesuit schooling had far-reaching effects. Theirs was a generation brought up on tales of heroism and service to a higher cause. The idea of going to war in distant lands was a challenge they could not resist. Many of them were keen sportsmen and physically fit, despite having been impoverished refugees. For the Hong Kong Portuguese the adventure had echoes of a deeper tradition. Their ancestors had come from Europe centuries before and had created mixed race, polyglot communities all along the coasts of Asia. Indeed, in the sixteenth century, Portuguese, or mixed blood Portuguese adventurers had served in ancient Burma, fighting for both the kingdoms of Pegu and Ava. How ironic are the subtle tides of history.
De Macau, pela China, até à Índia e à Birmânia
Portugueses de Hong Kong nos Chindits
Anne Ozorio fevereiro 2003
Quando, após a ocupação japonesa em dezembro de 1941, os refugiados começaram a sair de Hong Kong, muitos chegaram destituídos. Em Macau, os que podiam invocar qualquer ligação britânica receberam apoio do cônsul britânico John Reeves, em coordenação com a Cruz Vermelha e instituições locais. Reeves insistiu que o Governo britânico assumisse a responsabilidade, não apenas por razões humanitárias mas também para contrariar a propaganda japonesa.
Muitos refugiados acolhidos em Macau eram de origem portuguesa, ainda que com raízes antigas. As autoridades portuguesas e o Bispo de Macau não recusaram ninguém. O pequeno enclave encheu‑se de centenas de milhares de pessoas, dependentes da caridade e, em geral, sem trabalho digno. Entre os refugiados, muitos tinham combatido na queda de Hong Kong, quer em forças regulares quer nos Voluntários de Defesa. Aborrecidos e frequentemente desempregados, os mais jovens queriam participar ativamente no esforço de guerra anti‑japonês. Havia quem dominasse comunicações, armas e vários dialetos chineses; alguns sabiam japonês. Conheciam a China e o Sudeste Asiático e tinham redes de contactos. Educados à ocidental e de classe média, julgavam que as suas competências seriam valorizadas.
Depois de arrefecer o entusiasmo britânico por exportar chineses para a Índia e importar ingleses para a China, o general “Vinegar Joe” Stilwell pediu ao adido militar britânico que os americanos pudessem, oficialmente, contratar pessoas de Hong Kong com competências técnicas. Responderam‑lhe que “seria insensato tirá‑los da China… estamos preparados para ceder‑vos esses homens”. Mas já era 1945 e os homens tinham‑se dispersado. (3) A responsabilidade passou à Índia, que não os tinha solicitado. Muitos só souberam o destino à última hora, quando assinaram papéis na partida. Alguns só receberam salários em atraso do HKVDC quando aceitaram ir para a Índia. Jovens e idealistas, procuravam combater os japoneses — e aventura.
Estatisticamente, havia mais ex -HKVDC chinês no grupo da China, a maioria sendo chinesa no exterior (geralmente na América do Sul) e Eurásia. Para os propósitos desta peça, concentro -me em detalhes no português de Hong Kong, embora eles tenham constituído pouco menos de um quarto do grupo. Sendo o que era o que era, as linhas entre as comunidades ficaram embaçadas. Os portugueses tinham em comum com os chineses no exterior e outros eurásianos uma origem cultural mista. Quaisquer que sejam suas origens raciais, elas não faziam parte da comunidade chinesa apropriada: eles não tinham a vila ancestral nativa para voltar, nenhum lugar na sociedade tradicional chinesa. Alguns não sabiam ler ou escrever chineses, embora todos falassem vários dialetos. No entanto, essas comunidades também foram excluídas da sociedade européia e de seus preconceitos raciais. As comunidades chinesas chinesas, portuguesas, euro -asiáticas e ocidentais no exterior tinham, assim, tinham muito em comum: quaisquer divisões sendo superadas pelo fato de que a maioria das pessoas se conhecia socialmente, da igreja, escola ou trabalho. Um estudo detalhado de indivíduos mostra como as comunidades interagiram juntas – quem sabia quem, que se casaram com quem e assim por diante. Essas pessoas formaram um grupo extremamente coeso que refletia alguns dos homens mais ativos, capazes e articulados de Hong Kong.
O português de Hong Kong sabia que eles tinham um papel único a desempenhar. Lendo suas aplicações para ingressar na “Unidade da China”, fiquei impressionado com o quão empreendedores esses homens eram e pela maneira como a comunidade então portuguesa foi abrigada por toda a China e sudeste da Ásia. Não é de admirar que eles tivessem tanta empatia com os chineses estrangeiros, pois moravam e trabalhavam nas mesmas áreas. O padrão do assentamento português de Hong Kong na Ásia refletia não apenas os chineses no exterior, mas também os padrões antigos do assentamento português na Ásia.
A comunidade Macau/Hong Kong teve um ethos de ser internacional e itinerante, com uma rede de conexões em toda a região. Carlos de Jesus Passos Rocha (nascido em Hong Kong em 1895) trabalhou para Sassoon, o magnata judeu em Xangai, que o império comercial se espalhou pela Ásia. Seu irmão Estylito Simaő Lizola Rocha (nascido em Hong Kong em 1897) foi gerente de zona da General Motors em Saigon, do qual ele viajou pelo sudoeste da China. Mais tarde, trabalhando para a Ford Motors, ele passou quatro anos no Japão. Ele também passou dois anos na província de Yunnan, então Wild Mountain. No total, ele falava oito idiomas e dialetos fluentemente. Eduardo Rocha, apesar de apenas 20 anos, havia sido educado nos seminários de São José em Yokohama e Haiphong. Ansiosamente, ele observou em sua aplicação que esperava ser enviado para uma “Academia Militar”, como eram suas esperanças. George D Abbas, (B 1923) é descrito como “sino indiano” presumivelmente como ele tinha origens goanesas. Ele estudou na Diocesan Girls School, La Salle e Diocesan Boys School em Hong Kong, todas as escolas que desenham sua ingestão de comunidades não européias ocidentalizadas. Ricardo Laurel é “filipino português”. Percy Tonnochy era “escocês português” com uma parte da esposa espanhola. Ele havia trabalhado para Ruttonjee, um poderoso milionário parsee em Hong Kong e na costa da China era lendário. Tonnochy disse orgulhosamente que falava “crioulo português”, o patois de Macau.
Os portugueses de Hong Kong tinham tradição de desporto e treino físico e aderiam aos Voluntários desde a Primeira Guerra Mundial. Famílias como os Rocha ligaram‑se intimamente ao HKVDC. Rufino Lizola Rocha, telegrafista, acabou comandante de sinais. Dizia‑se que os Voluntários eram “matéria‑prima muito verde”. Rocha treinava Morse e Semáforo no Hong Kong Cricket Club. (4) Com tal legado, não admira que a família tenha sido das primeiras a agir quando a guerra chegou. Um filho morreu na Batalha de Hong Kong; uma filha em bombardeamento na Indochina. Três netos — Eduardo, Luis e Carlos — voluntariaram‑se. A mulher de Estylito, Rachel, e a jovem esposa de Luis, Eva, também se ofereceram. Eduardo fora estafeta motorizado da ARP; vários chineses do grupo também — provavelmente conheciam‑se. Um fotógrafo britânico captou dezenas de fotos promocionais da ARP pouco antes do ataque; talvez o rosto de Eduardo esteja entre elas.
O cônsul britânico em Macau deveria ser neutro, mas interpretou as funções de forma lata, com respeito tácito do cônsul japonês, Sr. Fukui. Delegou a criação dos “Grupos da Lancha” em Carlos Rocha, D. M. Remedios e outros. Saíram de Macau em junk entre abril e dezembro de 1943.
Ben Xavier, da família Sarrazolla Xavier, servia na Marinha britânica quando o Japão atacou. Detido num campo, foi aconselhado a fugir se pudesse — e escapou. Com passaporte português emitido em Hong Kong, seguiu para Macau a caminho da China Livre. Descreveu a partida pouco antes da meia‑noite numa junk com 40–50 pessoas, incluindo Duarte Remedios, Bobby Leonard, Defunto da Silva, Percy Tonnochy, os irmãos Maxwell e a Sra. Wilson, responsável pelas comunicações de inteligência em Macau, que ao partir passou as funções ao Dr. Eddie Gosano. Depois da viagem rio acima, desembarcaram em Toi Shan e seguiram em cadeirinhas, a pé e de camião até Kweilin, onde ficaram meses à espera de ordens.
Ao saírem de Macau, deixavam de pertencer ao HKVDC e só seriam integrados oficialmente ao chegar à Índia, recebendo entrementes apenas subsistência. Em maio de 1943 não havia fundos para 156 homens; destituídos, dependiam de esmolas. Os atrasados do HKVDC eram retidos até assinarem papéis de partida. Para evitar fome, Carlos Rocha doou $688/dia até o dinheiro acabar. O cônsul em Kweilin montou um esquema especial de apoio. Rocha liderou oficiosamente e deu garantias por Peter Maxwell (Mak), eurasiático com família numerosa, que antes deixara o Exército. Foi aceite.
Havia também um núcleo de profissionais das forças regulares, com treino sólido. Rocha acolheu quatro — P. L. Lam (RE), F. M. Tavares (RN), Ben Sarazolla Xavier (RN) e R. G. Laurel (Almirantado). Chegaram em outubro de 1942 e foram alojados numa sampana “imunda”. Rocha aumentou o subsídio para um quarto barato. Por erro receberam fundos a dobrar por curto período — mais um imbróglio resolvido por Rocha.
Com seus conhecimentos e redes de contato na China e no Sudeste Asiático, seu treinamento especializado em telegráfico sem fio e a fluência de um grande número em japonês, alguém poderia ter assumido que esses homens de Hong Kong poderiam ter sido bem utilizados na China. No entanto, eles foram mantidos em um acampamento em Kweilin, alguns por muitos meses, enquanto as autoridades britânicas da China ponderavam o que fazer com eles. Enquanto estava em Kweilin, eles foram tratados como se estivessem sob disciplina militar, mesmo que não fossem legalmente militares. Foi uma situação curiosa. Esperava -se que os homens se comportassem como uma unidade de combate, embora não tivessem nenhum papel real a desempenhar. Isso foi particularmente frustrante para os muitos homens que realmente estavam em servir forças, pois foram colocados sob a supervisão de civis com experiência militar limitada. Suas habilidades e treinamento contavam pouco nessas circunstâncias. Eles foram emitidos com inúmeras ordens detalhadas, mas não disseram o objetivo de sua missão. A disciplina era dura – os homens tinham US $ 100 de seus salários deduzidos para fumar enquanto estavam em serviço de sentinela ou atrasados para o desfile. Eles passaram muito tempo marchando ou jogando futebol. Enquanto isso, eles viram muito claramente que havia guerra e privação em todo o seu redor, e o espírito idealista com o qual haviam se estabelecido não estava sendo usado. Sem surpresa, isso desenvolveu tensões que o grupo de ajuda do exército britânico reconheceu obliquamente. Alguns perceberam que estavam vivendo em uma espécie de limbo e dispensaram -se para conseguir melhores empregos em outros lugares, inclusive no exército chinês e agências militares e de inteligência americanas. A estada no acampamento durou seis a oito meses, embora alguns tivessem saído mais cedo e estivessem em um campo semelhante em Calcutá.
Na Índia, o soldo previsto (6 rupias/dia) mal chegava. Remessas para a família, pela taxa oficial, perdiam valor. Mulheres de homens enviados antes estavam em miséria; adiantamentos eram deduzidos dos atrasados do HKVDC, ainda por pagar. Quem ficou em Macau contou com o Consulado e caridade; na China, com menos apoio, alguns perderam o rasto da família.
Chegadas as ordens, seguiram em pequenos comboios de camiões de Kweilin a Kunming, por estradas perigosas. Na fronteira, voaram “sobre o Corcovo” (Himálaia) até à Índia, em aviões pequenos e frios. Na Índia, foram avaliados e distribuídos entre treino militar e funções técnicas (engenharia, docas).
Na Índia, o general Orde Wingate preparava os Chindits, força de guerrilha de selva abastecida por via aérea. O brigadeiro “Mad Mike” Calvert, que falava algum cantonês e conhecia o HKVDC, viu proveito nos homens de Hong Kong e convidou‑os para a 77.ª Brigada.
Para homens urbanos de classe média, o grupo de Hong Kong portou‑se notavelmente bem na selva: marcha constante, mato fechado, terreno montanhoso, fome e sede, doenças tropicais, desconfiança de aldeões e a fauna hostil. A adaptabilidade forjada em Hong Kong ajudou.