Memories of Madras - The Summer of 1942
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When a Japanese raid looked imminent. When fear gripped Madras. When residents fled the city to safer places
In 1942, Madras battled phantoms. The response to the
threat of a Japanese attack was extreme and — in hindsight —
unwarranted. Huge numbers of people deserted the city, some disposing of
their properties at throwaway prices before evacuating to ‘safer'
areas. The fear over an impending Japanese aggression was not totally
unfounded: even the Government anticipated it. After air raids on
Visakhapatnam and Kakinada, Madras appeared to be in line for a
bombardment.
In a communiqué dated April 11 that
year, the Government of Madras sounded the doomsday siren and advised
residents — other than those engaged in essential services — to leave
the city. Poor people who could not rely on relatives and friends for
accommodation were asked to take shelter in Government camps established
at far-flung suburban villages — Nandivaram, Periyapalayam, Attur,
Vengattur, Thurapallam and Nandambakkam — that were located near railway
stations.
The fear of a Japanese attack almost
redefined the contours of daily life in Madras. Since the harbour was
prone to raids, plans were afoot to shift public offices, commercial
firms and banks in this section to interior areas. A proposal to shift
the operations of the office of the Accountant-General — except for
payment of pensions — to Bangalore was in the air.
Probably
the saddest part of the evacuation was the shooting of wild animals and
reptiles in the Madras zoo. When the option of sheltering the animals
in some other part of the country was ruled out, this was seen as the
only available course of action. The decision appeared rash and
unjustified. Later, the Government explained it was taken to protect
human life and that if “the apprehended danger had materialised,”
dangerous animals on the loose would have wrecked havoc.
To
help in the relocation, the Government paid an allowance to most
sections of its employees, so did a few private companies. With panic
reaching epidemic proportions, the city suddenly wore a deserted look.
On April 16, the Surgeon-General noted that the in-patient population at
the Madras General Hospital had whittled down to one-fourth of its
usual numbers. Numerous patients had “left against medical advice.” In
contrast, the railway stations were crowded. With people having left in
droves, the nearly 22 miles of slit trenches — meant for protection
during enemy shelling — that had been constructed within the city
appeared to be an exercise in profligacy.
The exodus
resulted in great distress for the remnant. Commercial establishments
had been shut down. Hotels especially pulled down shutters for want of
cooks and provisions. Milk and dairy products were in short supply
because the milkmen had resettled elsewhere. The supply of provisions
had been hampered by a breakdown in transport services. Another peculiar
problem facing the hotels was the shortage of small change. The Reserve
Bank stepped in and supplied small change to other banks. The
Government spoke to hoteliers and assured them of succour that would
enable them to resume their businesses.
In the
prevailing panic, a few voices of sanity were heard. C. Rajagopalachari
warned against “exaggeration of the danger of a Japanese invasion”. He
was right. About three weeks after the government had issued the
communique advising people to leave the city, Governor of Madras H. E.
Sir Arthur Hope spoke to the residents in a broadcast on All-India
Radio: “During the past few weeks much has happened to cause anxiety in
this country and especially in the Madras Presidency. That anxiety is
natural, but I want this evening to try to put things in their right
perspective. When the Government issued their communiqué on April 11th,
they had good reason to believe that there was a direct threat of
invasion to the Madras coast and Madras City. Happily this threat did
not materialise. There is, however, as the Commander-in-Chief said in
his broadcast the other day, always the danger of an attempt at
invasion, until the Japanese are driven from the Bay of Bengal and the
Indian Ocean. This danger will lessen from week to week, as our
reinforcements of all sorts pour in.”
Clearly, fear was Madras' major enemy; and the fight against the phantoms continued for many more weeks.
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