Several of the platoon, dead or desperately wounded, were lying in this inner chamber. The place was also being used to store ammunition and spare arms. At intervals men came in to get ammunition or to dress their wounds.
I spoke to Corporal Darragh who, as I said before, was shot in the hand. He informed me that when I was hit and rolled down the hill he, and others who had witnessed the incident from the pillbox, were convinced that I was dead. He also told me that Lieut. Birkett was still on top manning a machine gun. The enemy had, by this time, brought up field artillery and was shelling us.
Suddenly there came a terrific explosion. They had scored a direct hit on the pillbox. I was blown into the connecting tunnel flat on my face. I felt someone rush over me as I crawled out into the main trench. When I reached the end of a small branch trench I lost consciousness.
I awoke later in the afternoon to find a Corporal Brittain lying across me. He was badly wounded and when I tried to move he motioned for me to lie quietly. The Japs had wiped out all resistance by mortar and artillery fire and their infantry was now storming the position and bayoneting the wounded. I again passed out and remembered no more until I awoke to a fine drizzle of rain in the darkness.
There was no movement from the pillbox. All was quiet. Only the dead remained. There was just enough light for me to see my way around. I sat up. It was cold. This and the rain had no doubt revived me. I found that I had little or no use of my left arm. Later I learned it had been broken when I was blown out of the blockhouse. After a while, when the sky became a little lighter, I struggled to my feet and made my way back into the pillbox. It was deserted and partly collapsed. Extending from the pile of rubble I could see the bodies of comrades. Along one side there still remained a rack of rifles. I took one of these, found a full water bottle from which I drank and decided to make my way as best I could towards the first pillbox we had stopped at on our way to our present position, the one manned by the Hong Kong Volunteers.
I believe now that the reason the Japs, who stormed the pillbox, did not make a complete job of me was that I was shot through the head. They were sure that I was dead and as the position was under their own artillery fire they did not hang around. If they had they would have removed the rifles from the rack.
As I stumbled away from Jardine’s Lookout I looked back and saw the pile of rubble that had been the fort. I thought of Lieut. Birkett and the other gallant lads who lay or were buried there. This heap of rubble was their cairn. It should be marked with a plaque or some other memorial to their courageous stand.
I made my way down the hill in the early morning mist, seeing nobody, and up the next rise further back. I finally located the other pillbox. I cautiously approached the barbed wire that was strung along the top of the ridge. I saw two figures lying on a parapet and believed them to be our guards on observation duty. I crawled through the wire and down the trench. Staggering along with my rifle slung over my back I saw a rifle with a fixed bayonet moving slowly up and down beyond a turn in the trench. I had made it. Soon I would be with friends and have my wounds attended, but to my amazement when turning the bend of the trench I came face to face with a Jap.
