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Their goal today was Waichow, now only 14 miles away. Here they were told they would find a British military representative and an American mission, as well as a medical post, shops and other amenities . On a beautiful, sunny morning they were washed and ready to leave by eight o’clock. About forty ‘bicycle-taxis’ had been sent from Waichow to meet them, in case the older or more footsore members of the group weren’t up to any more walking. This seemed a splendid idea, they thought—until they saw the bicycles and learned that this particular form of travel could be as slow and certainly as painful as walking. While the Chinese cyclist did the pedalling, the passenger perched on the pillion seat—a threadbare cushion on an iron frame over the mudguard—with his large, blistered feet sticking out in ungainly fashion on either side. Most of those who tried it found there were too many rocks, chasms, water buffalo and other obstacles to allow anything but a succession of spills and walks interspersed with the briefest and bumpiest of rides. But for Goring, any transport was better than none: My particular host was very small indeed, while I am no pigmy; so I proposed I should ride the cycle while he sat on the carrier. But this he would not hear of. Indeed he became quite cross about it. So with my two blankets, rifle and all, I bestrode the carrier; he mounted the diminutive bicycle and we wobbled off . . . Presently we came to some enormous cavities extending right across the road—tank traps some 15 feet deep and half-filled with water. As we approached the first, I was horrified to observe that my cyclist did not slacken speed; he obviously intended to pedal across the narrow plank which spanned the gap! I protested violently but he rode doggedly on . . . I shut my eyes; I honestly believe my cyclist did the same. We sailed across that plank in a manner which would have turned Blondin green with envy. Yet, the moment we reached terra firma on the far side, the Chinese wobbled worse than ever! 22 Welcome to Waichow 29 December Welcome to Waichow 169 Ted Ross, who was carrying the injured David MacDougall on the back of his bicycle, was not so lucky. He lost control as they were crossing one of the tank traps and they both fell into the bottom of the trench below. ‘I was worried about Mac because he wasn’t in very good shape,’ said Ross. ‘But somehow we both got out all right. The bike’s front wheel was a bit bent but we kicked it straight and went on.’ Commander Montague was happy enough for his bicycle and its rider to be ‘borrowed’ from time to time by one of the few guerrillas who were still accompanying them. ‘No hardship to discard my machine on loan,’ he said cheerily when Gandy found him walking. Others walked all morning and only accepted the offer of a lift for the last few miles. About half the total party insisted on doing the whole day’s journey on foot, deciding that having come this far, they would not be beaten on the last lap—although many of them did agree to allow their packs to be carried for them. Those who walked split up into four separate groups, to make smaller targets in the event of air raids. MTBs 07 and 09 formed one group, now consisting of just six men (three officers: Ashby, Kennedy and Brewer; and three ratings: Rutter, Gurd and Hempenstall). With Parsons still unwell, McEwan was acting as commander of MTB 27. Aided by some musical accompaniment from one of the crew, he soon had his men moving along at what he called a good ‘heel and toe’ pace: ‘Spirits were high,’ he noted, ‘and the mouth organ suddenly produced by Pony Moore lifted our feet along the moorland road.’ After a couple of hours, a pailou, or decorative archway, announced that they were approaching the village of Fenghuang Gang (‘Phoenix Ridge’). Alongside the usual semi-circular duck pond, there was a teahouse and a temple with a Hakka-style gabled roof that looked almost more Dutch than Chinese. Here they halted for some ‘chow’, says Kennedy. Barker suggests they were now on strict rations—and were more interested in reaching their first big stop later in the day than in local village architecture: ‘At about...

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