A Christmas story

Featured in

  • Published 20150505
  • ISBN: 9781922182807
  • Extent: 264 pp
  • Paperback (234 x 153mm), eBook

JUST AFTER MIDNIGHT, six soldiers were shot in their beds in the Officers’ Quarters on Christmas Island. Their bodies were wrapped in bed sheets and mosquito nets, and tossed off the cliffs into the Indian Ocean where the silhouette of five ships could be seen, lingering on the horizon.

It was 10 March 1942, and Singapore had just fallen to the Japanese. The Indian army stationed on Christmas Island had been tuning into Axis propaganda and did not want their British superiors to resist the coming invasion (three workers had already been killed from an exploratory Japanese bombing raid); to fight would mean certain death. Rumours were circulating that the Indians would gain their independence and side with the Japanese soon anyway, so Sergeant Mir Ali decided to act. He convinced twelve of his countrymen to lock the ammunition store and to attack their commanders after they returned from an evening party. The Sikh soldiers threw their superiors from the cliffs to ensure that as the Japanese naval forces approached, there would be no resistance.

Already a subscriber? Sign in here

If you are an educator or student wishing to access content for study purposes please contact us at griffithreview@griffith.edu.au

Share article

More from author

Islam in the outback

ReportageON A DUSTY corner just before the Oodnadatta Track begins to unfurl across the centre of Australia, there is an unassuming mud-walled building on the...

More from this edition

Allies in name alone

EssayTHE VIETNAM WAR lingers in the collective memory like some unspeakable crime, locked away in the nation’s attic. Contrary to popular belief, America did...

Barrier thinking

EssayIN VIETNAM, MINES accounted for half of the Second Battalion, Royal Australian Regiment (2RAR) soldiers killed in action. Two of those killed on mines...

The uses and abuses of humiliation

MemoirOne year I said I didn’t Want to be arrested. Back too frail to be man-handled. I settled for the dawn peace-vigil: Candles flickering in the police horse’s...

Stay up to date with the latest, news, articles and special offers from Griffith Review.