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nest from the spurt of British fire at that point. Then almost instantly a Japanese shell could fall dangerously close, but the machine gun would continue to sputter. But the time came when they ceased to sputter. Perhaps they had moved their positions, or perhaps were silenced. The British had some mobile guns in the roadway leading to the Prison, and the flash from their muzzles could be easily seen. Fortunately, all during this time no bullets struck our house, it being on an eminence out of the range of fire, but the Carmelite Convent below was in the very midst of the battle. Its walls were pelted with machine gun and rifle bullets, but by the great mercy of God no one was either injured or molested, save Father Hessler, and the extent of his punishment was merely a slap or two in the face on Christmas morning.
At midnight, the battle seemed to be raging fiercely, and we could hear distinctly the blood-curdling yells of the attacking Japanese as they swarmed down the road past the Convent and reached the defending positions. So it must have been when the American savages attacked a frontier outpost when the world was not quite as civilized as it is supposed to be today. As the night wore on, the din of battle seemed to grow less and less. The defenders were slowly yielding ground, and the Japanese advanced towards the Prison and the Fort, so that when dawn began to break, the firing became more desultory, and the Japanese were in possession of Stanley Village and St. Stephen's Hill. They were not yet in the Prison, nor had they attempted the assault of the Fort, some distance out on the Stanley promontory.
On Christmas Day, needless to say, there were no Midnight Masses at Stanley to herald the birth of the new-born King, but as there seemed to be a lull in the battle raging all around us, we began saying our Masses at about five o'clock, on the portable altars in the corridors. We used but one candle, and even with that, we were in trepidation lest that tiny flame draw the fire of some lurking soldier. Some of us managed to say our three Masses, others two, and still others but one, while a few never got the opportunity, for about seven o'clock in the morning, there was a great hubbub at our front entrance, and we soon heard the sound of crashing glass. Most of us got as far as the second floor and tried to figure out what was happening. Finally, Father Meyer went down to the front entrance and there saw a group of Japanese soldiers who had gotten
THE MARYKNOLL MISSION, HONG KONG 1941-46
51
nest from the spurt of British fire at that point. Then almost in- stantly a Japanese shell could fall dangerously close, but the machine gun would continue to sputter. But the, the time came when they ceased to sputter. Perhaps they had moved their posi- tions, or perhaps were silenced. The British had some mobile guns in the roadway leading to the Prison, and the flash from their muzzles could be easily seen. Fortunately all during this time no bullets struck our house, it being on an eminence out of the range of fire, but the Carmelite Convent below was in the very midst of the battle. Its walls were pelted with machine gun and rifle bullets, but by the great mercy of God no one was either injured or molest- ed, save Father Hessler and the extent of his punishment was merely a slap or two in the face on Christmas morning.
At midnight the battle seemed to be raging fiercely, and we could hear distinctly the blood curdling yells of the attacking Japan- ese as they swarmed down the road past the Convent and reached the defending positions. So it must have been when the American savages attacked a frontier outpost when the world was not quite as civilized as it is supposed to be today. As the night wore on, the din of battle seemed to grow less and less. The defenders were slowly yielding ground and the Japanese advanced towards the Prison and the Fort, so that when dawn began to break the firing became more desultory and the Japanese were in possession of Stanley Village and St. Stephen's Hill. They were not yet in the Prison nor had they attempted the assault of the Fort some distance out on the Stanley promontory.
On Christmas Day, needless to say, there were no Midnight Masses at Stanley to herald the birth of the new-born King, but as there seemed to be a lull in the battle ranging all around us we began saying our Masses at about five o'clock, on the portable altars in the corridors. We used but one candle, and even with that we were in trepidation lest that tiny flame draw the fire of some lurking soldier. Some of us managed to say our three Masses, others two, and still others but one, while a few never got the opportunity, for about seven o'clock in the morning there was a great hubbub at our front entrance, and we soon heard the sound of crashing glass. Most of us got as far as the second floor and tried to figure out what was happening. Finally Father Meyer went down to the front entrance and there saw a group of Japanese soldiers who had gotten
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