Singapore’s Bunker Hill: A Travelogue
(The following is an article that was posted on Saturday 10 March 2018 on themelancholicseeker.wordpress.com. Please note that the information contained is dated and may not be accurate. Photos not included.)
After six grueling months of being worked to the bone, I have finally found some time to do a bit of writing about another World War 2 site in south east Asia. This one however was not a forlorn, re-purposed shell of place, but a well taken care of tourist attraction.
For those unfamiliar with my previous ‘expedition’, I had written a photo-journal piece about an World War 2 era Dutch seaplane base on the shores of Lake Tondano in north Sulawesi (here), which proved to be a very rewarding experience despite running into a few logistical problems.
This time I was fortunate enough to be on a well-deserved break and opted to check out Singapore’s ‘Battle Box’.
So, a little about the site.
In contrast to Tondano, information about Singapore’s ‘Battle Box’ in Fort Canning Hill is plentiful and can easily be found online. It is well preserved and maintained, and a place I would definitely recommend to anybody with an interest in WW2, colonial and local history.
Short of regurgitating what can be found on sites like Wikipedia and haphazard comments on Trip Advisor, it was the Allied combined operations command center during the Battle of Singapore, and its infamy lies in the fact that it was where Lieutenant General Arthur Percival – the person charged with the defense of the Malaya peninsula, which included Singapore – took the decision to surrender to the Japanese.
In Churchill’s own words, it was “…the worst disaster and largest capitulation in British History”, and the event still splits opinions to this day. But whatever your views are, you can see the place where that decision was taken.
INTO THE DEPTHS
The ‘Battle Box’ is a bunker complex which housed the allied commanders charged with the defense of Singapore, the entrance of which could have been unassuming to passers-by if not for the glossed paint on the metal doors and bold-lettered signage.
Entry had to be by way of a tour group, which to my knowledge was the only way to access what was beneath the hill. I had signed on in the nick of time, and our guide started her welcoming speech while I was still paying for my ticket and registering at the visitors center’s front desk.
However, I would have preferred to do my own exploring rather than follow a set schedule, and the blanket ban on photography left me irritated and still puzzled to the reason for it. Yes, I understand that camera flashes can have adverse effects on the artifacts, but that’s why they’re behind specially made glass and displace cases to… I don’t know… PROTECT them from it, right? Also, there are visitor photos of inside the Battle Box on TripAdvisor, which begs the question – why couldn’t I take photos when I was there? Very disappointing indeed.
But that’s not to say it wasn’t an informative experience. It was quite the opposite, and the visitors center choice of ‘hook’ was – I thought – a cheeky way of promoting the attraction.
After descending into the bowels of the complex, we were treated first to a well-lit room showcasing the general history of the area. The room itself was used as an air filtration room – one of three – and marks on the floor indicate where the filtration apparatus once stood.
Next was a short film about the defense of Singapore, the advance of the Japanese army through the Malaya peninsula and the loss of the battleships Prince of Wales and Repulse by Japanese bombers. Our group watched this in what we were told was the ‘Gunnery Room’, which conflicted with the sign over the top of the door frame identifying it as a ‘Naval Operations Room’. Not sure if this was a slip, but I’m guessing both terms were interchangeable.
This was spacious and carefully laid out area (i.e. benches laid out in rows and a projector tucked away in the back), but the main draw-card of the Battle Box was the ‘Plotting Room’
It was another large room complete with the appropriate furnishings, which made it a bit of squeeze for all of us. The plotting table spanned much of the center, but the colored markers atop an enlarged map of Singapore commanded the attention of our curious group. The display was even tended to by mannequins dressed in period fatigues that were either viewing the map, taking a telephone call on a raised platform overlooking the table, or in mid-action of placing makers on the map with a pole.
It was pretty cool for a static display, and the use of the mannequins were not limited to the rooms. There were two standing ‘at-ease’ in the corridors, the purpose of which I presumed was to help guide groups like ours into the various room in sequence.
From memory, the next few rooms we were directed to – in sequence – were the orderly and telephone exchange rooms, and then on to the cipher and signals offices. It was at this point our guide drew the group’s attention to the large gaps in the corners of the metal doors, asking if anybody knew why they were there.
I thought it allowed the soldiers in the rooms to lob grenades into the corridors if the bunker was breached by the enemy or to toss an incendiary bomb into rooms like the cypher office or telephone exchange to destroy codes and secret communications.
Alas, I was wrong and told that the gaps helped ventilate the rooms of cigarette smoke. Another victory for Occam’s Razor, I guess.
The signals control room was of special importance on our tour because there were Japanese graffiti marks on the wall, and our group was told they indicated army units which took over the use on the bunker complex during the occupation. This lead to another story shared by our guide – which I think is worth a separate article if circumstances ever permit – of a young Singapore Press Holdings intern and his photographer ‘rediscovering’ the bunker complex in the late 80s.
While her explanation stopped there, I decided to snoop around online while writing this travelogue to see if I could find the published news article. I managed find it listed in the archives of the National Library Board – ‘Percival’s Last Stand’ by Romen Bose – which I was unable to access because such articles, according to the website, could only be viewed at the NLB’s facilities. He has also written a book about it and a couple more relating to Singapore’s wartime experience; ‘Secrets of the Battle Box’ (2011), ‘The End of the War’ (2005) and ‘Singapore at War’ (2012).
But back to the tour.
We passed the toilet facilities en route to the next attraction, which was down a narrow corridor and ending at a flight of stairs leading up to the surface. Our guide explained that this was the bunker’s emergency exit – dubbed ‘the cat ladder’ – and that if wanted to know where it led to, we could find the pyramid-like structure in Fort Canning Park above at the end of the tour.
Our group was again treated to another static display of wax figures in period-uniforms, and this time it displayed a meeting of the Allied commanders, including General Percival. The vignette was, again, pretty good for what it was, however the gravitas came from the fact that it closely recreated the moment when the decision to surrender was taken.
It was something that our guide poignantly impressed on us, and afterwards dutifully pointed out the who was who in the display. I still feel terrible not remembering which figures where who because my mind was how I was to get to the Boomerang Bar before the halftime mark.
It was the Adelaide versus Richmond grand final match, and I had taken the time to learn the words to both teams’ anthems. It wasn’t something I usually did but because I was catching up with mates overseas after a long hiatus, I wanted to at least get into the spirit of things, particularly the spirits.
Our last room was small, cramped and projected another movie detailing Singpaore’s surrender to the Japanese. After it ended, we headed down the corridor and ascended the staircase we used to enter the bunker just over an hour ago.
This ended my tour of the Battle Box, and after a short debriefing session at the visitor center, I headed towards Robertson Quay with the melodies of ‘We are the pride of South Australia…’ and ‘Oh, we’re from Tigerland…’ ringing in my ears and competing for my attention.
After six grueling months of being worked to the bone, I have finally found some time to do a bit of writing about another World War 2 site in south east Asia. This one however was not a forlorn, re-purposed shell of place, but a well taken care of tourist attraction.
For those unfamiliar with my previous ‘expedition’, I had written a photo-journal piece about an World War 2 era Dutch seaplane base on the shores of Lake Tondano in north Sulawesi (here), which proved to be a very rewarding experience despite running into a few logistical problems.
This time I was fortunate enough to be on a well-deserved break and opted to check out Singapore’s ‘Battle Box’.
So, a little about the site.
In contrast to Tondano, information about Singapore’s ‘Battle Box’ in Fort Canning Hill is plentiful and can easily be found online. It is well preserved and maintained, and a place I would definitely recommend to anybody with an interest in WW2, colonial and local history.
Short of regurgitating what can be found on sites like Wikipedia and haphazard comments on Trip Advisor, it was the Allied combined operations command center during the Battle of Singapore, and its infamy lies in the fact that it was where Lieutenant General Arthur Percival – the person charged with the defense of the Malaya peninsula, which included Singapore – took the decision to surrender to the Japanese.
In Churchill’s own words, it was “…the worst disaster and largest capitulation in British History”, and the event still splits opinions to this day. But whatever your views are, you can see the place where that decision was taken.
INTO THE DEPTHS
The ‘Battle Box’ is a bunker complex which housed the allied commanders charged with the defense of Singapore, the entrance of which could have been unassuming to passers-by if not for the glossed paint on the metal doors and bold-lettered signage.
Entry had to be by way of a tour group, which to my knowledge was the only way to access what was beneath the hill. I had signed on in the nick of time, and our guide started her welcoming speech while I was still paying for my ticket and registering at the visitors center’s front desk.
However, I would have preferred to do my own exploring rather than follow a set schedule, and the blanket ban on photography left me irritated and still puzzled to the reason for it. Yes, I understand that camera flashes can have adverse effects on the artifacts, but that’s why they’re behind specially made glass and displace cases to… I don’t know… PROTECT them from it, right? Also, there are visitor photos of inside the Battle Box on TripAdvisor, which begs the question – why couldn’t I take photos when I was there? Very disappointing indeed.
But that’s not to say it wasn’t an informative experience. It was quite the opposite, and the visitors center choice of ‘hook’ was – I thought – a cheeky way of promoting the attraction.
After descending into the bowels of the complex, we were treated first to a well-lit room showcasing the general history of the area. The room itself was used as an air filtration room – one of three – and marks on the floor indicate where the filtration apparatus once stood.
Next was a short film about the defense of Singapore, the advance of the Japanese army through the Malaya peninsula and the loss of the battleships Prince of Wales and Repulse by Japanese bombers. Our group watched this in what we were told was the ‘Gunnery Room’, which conflicted with the sign over the top of the door frame identifying it as a ‘Naval Operations Room’. Not sure if this was a slip, but I’m guessing both terms were interchangeable.
This was spacious and carefully laid out area (i.e. benches laid out in rows and a projector tucked away in the back), but the main draw-card of the Battle Box was the ‘Plotting Room’
It was another large room complete with the appropriate furnishings, which made it a bit of squeeze for all of us. The plotting table spanned much of the center, but the colored markers atop an enlarged map of Singapore commanded the attention of our curious group. The display was even tended to by mannequins dressed in period fatigues that were either viewing the map, taking a telephone call on a raised platform overlooking the table, or in mid-action of placing makers on the map with a pole.
It was pretty cool for a static display, and the use of the mannequins were not limited to the rooms. There were two standing ‘at-ease’ in the corridors, the purpose of which I presumed was to help guide groups like ours into the various room in sequence.
From memory, the next few rooms we were directed to – in sequence – were the orderly and telephone exchange rooms, and then on to the cipher and signals offices. It was at this point our guide drew the group’s attention to the large gaps in the corners of the metal doors, asking if anybody knew why they were there.
I thought it allowed the soldiers in the rooms to lob grenades into the corridors if the bunker was breached by the enemy or to toss an incendiary bomb into rooms like the cypher office or telephone exchange to destroy codes and secret communications.
Alas, I was wrong and told that the gaps helped ventilate the rooms of cigarette smoke. Another victory for Occam’s Razor, I guess.
The signals control room was of special importance on our tour because there were Japanese graffiti marks on the wall, and our group was told they indicated army units which took over the use on the bunker complex during the occupation. This lead to another story shared by our guide – which I think is worth a separate article if circumstances ever permit – of a young Singapore Press Holdings intern and his photographer ‘rediscovering’ the bunker complex in the late 80s.
While her explanation stopped there, I decided to snoop around online while writing this travelogue to see if I could find the published news article. I managed find it listed in the archives of the National Library Board – ‘Percival’s Last Stand’ by Romen Bose – which I was unable to access because such articles, according to the website, could only be viewed at the NLB’s facilities. He has also written a book about it and a couple more relating to Singapore’s wartime experience; ‘Secrets of the Battle Box’ (2011), ‘The End of the War’ (2005) and ‘Singapore at War’ (2012).
But back to the tour.
We passed the toilet facilities en route to the next attraction, which was down a narrow corridor and ending at a flight of stairs leading up to the surface. Our guide explained that this was the bunker’s emergency exit – dubbed ‘the cat ladder’ – and that if wanted to know where it led to, we could find the pyramid-like structure in Fort Canning Park above at the end of the tour.
Our group was again treated to another static display of wax figures in period-uniforms, and this time it displayed a meeting of the Allied commanders, including General Percival. The vignette was, again, pretty good for what it was, however the gravitas came from the fact that it closely recreated the moment when the decision to surrender was taken.
It was something that our guide poignantly impressed on us, and afterwards dutifully pointed out the who was who in the display. I still feel terrible not remembering which figures where who because my mind was how I was to get to the Boomerang Bar before the halftime mark.
It was the Adelaide versus Richmond grand final match, and I had taken the time to learn the words to both teams’ anthems. It wasn’t something I usually did but because I was catching up with mates overseas after a long hiatus, I wanted to at least get into the spirit of things, particularly the spirits.
Our last room was small, cramped and projected another movie detailing Singpaore’s surrender to the Japanese. After it ended, we headed down the corridor and ascended the staircase we used to enter the bunker just over an hour ago.
This ended my tour of the Battle Box, and after a short debriefing session at the visitor center, I headed towards Robertson Quay with the melodies of ‘We are the pride of South Australia…’ and ‘Oh, we’re from Tigerland…’ ringing in my ears and competing for my attention.