All the way, from the very first day when things went badly at Kota Bahru Airdrome (TIME, Dec. 22), the end had seemed as inevitable as death from an incurable disease. And so, toward the end, Singapore's society, like a dying person already long acquainted with death, went mechanically on with the trivia of daily habit.
Along the main roads, trolleys, automobiles and rickshas carried people home from work, off for shopping, to friends for a drink. Cars drew up to the Raffles Hotel and disgorged their passengers in time for the daily tea dance. Outside a cinema people lined up to...
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