To digress a while on the climate, fauna and flora of Singapore:

In the gardens of the Malay houses were all sorts of flowering shrubs, of which the gardenias and hibiscus were the most common and most beautiful. The most spectacular of the flowers were the cannas, growing in magnificent blazes of red, orange and yellow up to the height of six feet, and almost as prolifically as weeds. All the vegetation was very green, very fast growing. The grass was a poor copy of the English; and although light and fresh greens may have been lacking, the variety and depth of the other shades was marvellous.

As regards animals we had the opportunity of seeing only a few. One day, on a wiring party, I killed a small black cobra 30 inches long with my stick. Scorpions of various colours and enormous centipedes often eight or nine inches long, were common among refuse and old hutting materials, but the only jungle creatures that menaced us were the Anopheles mosquitoes and the Tiger variety of mosquito, which brought malaria and dengue respectively. Praying Mantises, various stick insects and leaf beetles of incredible camouflage powers, were common. But such jungle as remained on the island, as in the Forest Reserve, was tamed.

The weather was always uncompromisingly hot, usually a steady 80 to 90 degrees, and very humid. This, combined with the bad food, sapped any little energy we might have had left, and made physical exertion impossible.

The one high spot in Changi was the gradual building up of the University. Odd corners of huts were given up as lecture halls, and the time was slowly approaching when 3-month terms in about ten subjects would commence. My chief interest lay in the Music Faculty. One day, when walking along the Changi Road near a Gunner Mess, I heard someone playing Chopin really beautifully. On going over to investigate, it turned out that the pianist was a professional named Reginald Benson. With him was a violinist who had played in the London Philharmonic Orchestra. Obviously these two were the men to start a Music Faculty going, and with the help of Div. H.Q. that was done.

Benson, like so many British musicians, had had one long struggle with poverty, and though really first rate, he’d never been able to earn more than about £6 a week at the age of 34! His attitude to music was humble and sincere, and he used to come down to our tent every Sunday afternoon and chat.

Then there was ‘C’ Mess. For Henry Baird and I ‘C’ Mess was an unmixed blessing, and a centre of civilisation in a savage, military world, albeit they were the Junior Officers’ Mess at Div. H.Q. There was more character and wit in that group of young men than in any other half dozen Messes in Changi. The general opinion of ‘C’ Mess among the Division was a little disparaging and deprecating; but in factual fact jealousy was the prime cause of that opinion, and even if they indulged in a little persiflage, they were at least efficient; if they fed a little better than the average officers, they had a more ingenious Messing Officer.