Tank Tracks to Rangoon (6 page)

Suddenly the mist lifted to reveal four anti-tank guns. These had been man-handled into their position during the night, and had been located so as to fire into rear of the squadrons.

They had opened up a little too early, or their score of kills would have been greater.

Almost at once Captain Shorten of the Essex Yeomanry got his guns onto the enemy, and a counter attack was mounted by a troop of A Squadron tanks, commanded by Lt M. M. Stanley-Evans, and a company of the West Yorkshires, who had relieved the Cameronians. The attack went in with a swing, capturing all four guns and routing their infantry escort. Heavy casualties were inflicted and one prisoner taken. Stanley-Evans chased another fugitive on foot into some trees, and was laying about him when other Japanese survivors joined in, and he was forced to escape in his turn.

A little later, A Squadron reported three tanks approaching their position. Careful inspection revealed them as being Type 95s, and they engaged the troops of Lts Barton and Stanley-Evans, the former choosing a good hull down position on the flank, so that the Japanese were caught in a perfect V fire trap. After a short exchange of fire two of the enemy tanks were
knocked out, and the third abandoned by its crew. It was examined by A Squadron with interest, and the general opinion was that it was not much use as a fighting vehicle. Unfortunately, the success was marred by the death of Lt Glendinning, killed by a Japanese ‘over’ from the battle whilst he was investigating a report of enemy transport on the Waw–Payagyi Road.

If the enemy had co-ordinated his tank attack with his antitank gun ambush, he might have done 7th Hussars some damage, but co-ordination was never a Japanese forte, however cunning they might be. As it was, the Hussars were consistently getting the better of every encounter.

Elsewhere, however, things were going very badly indeed, and General Alexander had already reached the conclusion that Rangoon could not be held; in fact, Burma could not be held with the forces available. Nonetheless, Alexander was not going to make a present of the country to the Japanese, who were going to be made to fight for it. In the meantime, the army would escape from the Rangoon trap by the western Mandalay road, through Prome, whilst demolitions in the city and dock area sent columns of smoke thousands of feet into the sky.

During the afternoon of 6th March, therefore, 7th Hussars were ordered to leave Payagyi, and retire through Pegu to rejoin the rest of the brigade at Hlegu.

‘We arrived in the town as darkness was falling,’ wrote Lt Palmer. ‘The town had been severely bombed and the whole place was blazing from end to end. However, we were lucky as the only bridge was still standing. Meanwhile the enemy had erected a road block three miles south-west of the town and we halted while A Squadron moved down to the block to ascertain its strength. Apparently it was quite impossible to get through and probes were made in various directions to get round the flanks but all were considered impossible.’

Colonel Fosdick decided to move the Regiment closer to the road block and leaguer for the night. Whilst we were going into harbour Bill Kevill-Davies was killed by small arms fire. He was buried in the leaguer which was an extremely sticky area in the heart of the enemy positions. As a night attack was expected we had to stay in the tanks and spent one of the most harassing nights I can remember in the war. Dawn was most welcome. In fact the only trouble we had was from a most searching mortar fire which continued spasmodically throughout the night. The ‘B’ vehicles, however, did suffer considerably. An ‘O’ group first thing in the morning decided that the block should be cleared by a company of infantry
supported by one troop. I was the lucky individual selected to support this attack.

We set off after 7 am and as we reached the road we were submerged by a panic-stricken mob of fugitives in complete disarray. They looked like wrecking the whole operation and it was impossible to move without running them down. Eventually I had to threaten to open fire, but the Japs did the job for me.

We had Noel Shorten of the Essex Yeomanry with us as OP and moved towards the road block with Sgt Davis leading the way. On coming round a bend we suddenly came up against the road block which consisted of two lorries drawn across the road and another obstruction some farther 300 yards down the road. The country on either side was heavily wooded and there was no way round. We succeeded in partly moving the lorries with the tanks and immediately came under a hail of small arms fire.

We took up a fire position and gave the whole area a ten minute pasting with the Brownings. While this was going on the infantry most gallantly cleared the block and the Essex Yeomanry put down a concentration on the area.

In the middle of all this I suddenly saw a bottle hit the side of Davis’s tank and burst into flames—some kind of molotov cocktail. No damage was done and we shuffled forward, constantly changing, and eventually having Cpl Barr’s tank knocked out, again by a molotov cocktail, although he and his crew got clear. My radio aerial was shot away and I lost contact with the regiment. I signalled to Noel that I would push on to the next block. We moved fast under heavy fire and were relieved to find it clear. As we passed through my tank was hit by an HE shell which exploded in my valise on the outside of the tank. I was mortified to see my bedding and spare kit disintegrate in all directions.

The infantry had given us most gallant support and cleared the jungle on either side. The company commander had been severely wounded during the engagement. Having got through the road block I had not a clue what was going on and decided to push on with my troop until I could rig an emergency aerial. We stopped a few miles up the road where we linked up with a patrol of 2 RTR and also with John Parry’s troop which had escorted a brigadier through the block the previous night. I still could not contact Squadron HQ and was getting very worried when suddenly the first of the column started to come through. The Squadron had got out of a sticky position very lightly with only one man killed and a few wounded.

Japanese resistance at Pegu had been bitter in the extreme, and many instances could be quoted of the enemy’s animal ferocity. One will suffice.

A senior Japanese officer on a white horse charged one of the Hussars’ Stuarts, and managed to scramble aboard, attacking the tank commander with his sword. The commander chose a more technical weapon, a hammer, with which to defend himself,
and closed with the Jap before he could do any damage, striking him a severe blow across the head so that he tumbled down the front of the tank, which was moving, and which passed over both his legs. In spite of his undoubted agony, this very brave officer was seen to draw his revolver, prop himself on one elbow, and fire after the tank. If the reader doubts the capacity of the Japanese for berserk fury, he has many surprises awaiting him in the chapters ahead; particularly where loss of face is involved, as in this case.

Back in Pegu, the Cameronians and West Yorkshires were engaged in a vicious rearguard action. Captain Metcalfe, 7th Hussars’ chaplain, had been helping the wounded all day at the combined dressing station, which was under direct and deliberate fire from Japanese snipers, in spite of its obvious purpose. The Japanese showed little respect for medical services throughout the campaign, nor indeed for men of the cloth; one of Metcalfe’s colleagues, Padre Funnell, was ambushed and butchered in cold blood near Prome. Now, Metcalfe was desperately engaged in trying to get the wounded away, and was, moreover, succeeding.

Sitting by the driver of the last ambulance I began the journey out of Pegu. Luck, however, seemed against us. The vehicle stuck on the bridge over the railway, which the last remnants of our forces were about to blow up.

Dashing up the road, I persuaded the driver of the only other vehicle in sight to give us a tow. Despite the extremely unhealthy situation, he backed his lorry and gave the ambulance a tow, which started the engine up. Sending the ambulance ahead to catch up the remainder of the convoy, I joined forces with the driver of the lorry which had just given the tow, and which had almost immediately been put out of action, and with a small detachment of Cameronians, under the late Major Magnus Grey, who were acting as rearguard, and had been responsible for blowing up the bridge over the railway.

Heavy Jap fire compelled us to take cover under the last few lorries of the convoy, all of which were quickly put out of action. After a short stand, the position became quite untenable as the Japs were threatening to cut us off altogether.

Retreating down the road, using the cover of the ditches that lined both sides, we came upon the scene of the road block which had been broken earlier that morning by the tanks of the regiment. It was a scene of indescribable carnage; burnt out lorries piled together with the dead crews hanging grotesquely out of the driving cabs.

I very much wanted to establish the identities of these pitiful human remains for the sake of their loved ones, who would otherwise
have to endure the doubts and anxieties engendered by those tragic words, ‘missing, believed killed’. It was not to be, however, for as I was groping for the first identity disc, the Jap gave us everything he had got. A mortar shell hit the lorry by which I was standing, blowing me into the ditch on top of a group of Cameronians who were sheltering there. Beyond a few scratches and a temporary deafness, I escaped unhurt.

In the lull that followed, the whole party retreated from the road into the jungle, and began a trek for the village of Hlegu, where we hoped to join up with the rest of the force.

They succeeded; for his work at Pegu, Padre Metcalfe was awarded an immediate DSO.

On arrival at Hlegu, 7th Hussars were ordered by Brigadier Anstice to proceed north a short distance to a rubber plantation at Taukkyon, and there get some rest. This news was received gladly by everyone, as the tank crews were very tired after several days close contact with the enemy.

There was little rest to be had at Taukkyon, however. Here, 24 miles out of Rangoon, the Japanese had established a formidable road block, which was defying all efforts to shift it. South of the block was the major part of 17th Indian Division, most of 7th Armoured Brigade, and worst of all, the entire Army Headquarters, including General Alexander himself. Behind them were thousands of refugees and countless civilian vehicles, the whole combining to make one of the worst traffic jams in the history of the war.

Arriving in the midst of this, Lt Basil Young’s troop of B Squadron was sent forward with some infantry to reconnoitre the block. Young’s tank received a 75-mm hit which put his guns out of action, and the infantry suffered heavily.

Next, Major Bonham-Carter with B Squadron 2 RTR and 1st Gloucestershire Regiment tried to batter a way through with some artillery support. They failed as the Japanese had been particularly clever in siting their automatic weapons and two 75-mm guns which could not be reached, and because the close country limited the advance to a one tank frontage.

At this stage, the Army Commander’s presence was definitely an embarrassment, and Colonel Fosdick offered the General Lt Palmer’s troop as escort to run him through the block during the Gloucesters’ attack. To Palmer’s relief, Alexander refused the offer, preferring to stay with his troops until the issue was decided one way or the other.

An elaborate plan was made for a heavy first-light attack on
the block. A Squadron 7th Hussars would lead, with 1/10 Gurkhas and 1/11 Sikhs on the flanks, after preparation by the artillery and the RAF.

1 Situation at Taukkyon, night of 7th/8th March

A quiet night was spent by the trapped forces south of the road block. So quiet, in fact, that towards dawn Major Bonham-Carter became suspicious, and set off to examine the block and find out what the enemy was up to. Seeing no movement, he walked up to the first barrier and found it deserted. Nor could he see any sign of the enemy beyond.

Arriving back in the leaguer area, he found the attack forming up and told them the good news. Very quickly the obstruction was cleared, and the whole mass of vehicles began to move north, the Headquarters troops and refugees bound for Mandalay and beyond, the fighting troops to more suitable positions.

This episode must be one of the most remarkable in the entire history of the war. Why, when they had it in their power to capture the major part of the British fighting troops in Burma, to pull the cork out of the bottle and let the lot go free?

The answer lies in the Japanese Army’s almost insanely literal interpretation of orders, and in the all-important question of face.

The commander of the Japanese 33rd Division intended, by hook or by crook, to have the kudos of being first into Rangoon, and his plan was to cross the Rangoon–Prome road, travelling west, then swing south, and enter the city along the line of least resistance, from the north-west. To prevent interference from British troops using the main road, he had put out a company-strong flank guard at Taukkyon, and his division had crossed the road screened by their road block.