One chap pulled the pin out of a grenade and, in his excitement, shoved it into his
pocket. The blast blew the front of his pants off. Seconds later he was mowed
down by machine gun fire.
A Jap grenade landed at Gordon Murray's feet. He kicked it and it exploded, but
fortunately, the worst effect was that he got both his legs peppered with small
fragments. Bad enough, but it could have been worse. He was lucky.
According to Lance Ross, Big Ed Bujold stood there pulling the pins out of
grenades and hurling them like baseballs through the windows of the bungalow at
the graveyard.
By this time Major Parker, Byron Willett, his batman, and I  had reached shelter
behind the wall of Stanley Prison, the walls of which were some 15 feet high.
Japanese shells were coming over and landing inside the walls of the prison. On
the ground, just outside the wall, and directly in line with the shelling, was a stack
of boxes about 8 feet high. Major Parker said, "Byron, what is marked on those
boxes?" Byron said, "T.N.T."  We left there in a hurry.
Ursel Kaine's ankle was  broken by a Jap bullet, but he managed to hobble to
safety and was rescued. Morris Delaney was shot in the head, just over the left
ear, a sort of glancing blow. He staggered past me and I spoke to him. He said he
was going to the dressing station. I was surprised to learn later that he died soon
after. It was said that he was a victim  of what in now called "friendly fire". Who
needs enemies?
Sgt. Major Frank Edben stopped a bullet right on the point of his chin, which
broke his jaw and ripped out eight teeth.  Frank survived and returned to Canada
where he lived until the early 90's. Frank had been a bugler in WW1. After
returning to Canada in 1945, he continued to play the bugle in spite of the
disfigurement of his lower jaw. He performed at all our cenotaph ceremonies.
Forced Withdrawal
Because our losses were so heavy, and the
continuing pressure of the overwhelming
hordes of Japanese troops, we were
forced, once again, to withdraw. Major
Parker turned and counted the ragged
remnants of "D" Company, the Royal Rifles
of Canada. Of the 120 men who had gone
into action in Stanley Village that Christmas
Day, 1941, only 45 went back up the hill.
Major Parker's eyes streamed with tears as
he counted us.
Major Maurice A. Parker
I remember the feeling of utter despair as we faced certain death, because we
were being forced into a dead end zone at the fort. The possibility of swimming to
Llama Island some distance away entered my head. It's just as well I didn't
attempt it. I would never had made the island, and even if I had what would have
happened to me then? Llama Island, as far as I knew, had nothing but a few
Chinese inhabitants and, for their own safety, they would probably have had to be
unfriendly, if not hostile. I figured it really wasn't the place for a bedraggled
refugee from the Battle of Hong Kong.
In addition such an action would have been regarded by the Canadian Army as
desertion in the face of enemy fire. In the worst case scenario I could have been
put up against a wall, blindfolded, and shot, or I might still be in prison.
Another possibility entered my head. Suppose the British Navy could affect an
evacuation like the one that had happened at Dunkirk? But, by that time the
Japanese Navy had sunk the two British Battleships, The Repulse, and the Prince
of Wales, as they made there way north in the Chine Sea.
H.M.S Repulse
H.M.S. Prince of Wales