Tank Tracks to Rangoon (16 page)

However, on the following day enemy tanks were heard but not seen, and on the 16th one troop, holding a road block with two companies of Gurkhas, were attacked by about 200 infantry, who were thrown back with great loss. Two days later, another troop was within the perimeter of a battalion of the Border Regiment when it was rushed by a large party of the enemy. The fighting lasted from 0800 until 1530, when those Japanese still on their feet faded away.

It was clear that A Squadron was a major stumbling block to the enemy’s progress through the Kabaw, and that the Japanese would like to see them out of the way, so perhaps the following imaginary situation contains more than a germ of truth.

A dumpy figure in tank crew overalls and helmet enters a headquarters tent. He is a captain, and naturally he is carrying a sword. He salutes and bows from the waist to the general, who nods and indicates with his thumb his chief of staff and intelligence officer.

The IO points to several areas on his map of the Kabaw, and tells the tank officer that British tanks are holding up the advance. The chief of staff tells him that he must destroy them.

‘What type of tanks are they using?’ asks the captain.

‘Lees,’ answers the IO, impassively.

‘Lees! But you know I have only got Type 95s—they will blow us apart long before we can get in range.’

At this point the general takes a hand, slapping the captain once very hard on each cheek. The trouble with technical officers, he angrily points out, is that they can see only difficulties and not solutions. How does the captain think the infantry feel when they meet a Lee in nothing thicker than their uniform? The captain must use his initiative, make effective plans with the infantry, and destroy the Lees—if he does not, he need not bother coming back.

After bowing deeply and saluting, the captain leaves for his tank park, doubtless slapping and kicking all lesser mortals who dare to cross his enraged path. The rest of the story is not imaginary.

On the morning of 20th March Major Pettit was ordered to lead a force to the rescue of some infantry who had been ambushed and were unable to move their wounded. His force consisted of his own HQ troop, another troop under Lt W. M. N. Millar, some carriers supplied by the Northamptonshire Regiment, and a company from 9/14 Punjabis. The order of march was Millar’s troop leading, with the carriers interspersed between the tanks, then the infantry in nine lorries, and Pettit’s troop bringing up the rear. Some of the infantry were also riding on the tanks.

At 0730 the column was travelling along a jungle track south of Tamu, and was about to enter a clearing when the leading troop was fired upon from both sides. Pettit’s head-phones immediately advised him of the nature of the opposition.

‘7 Able, am engaging enemy Stuart (sic) tanks and infantry, 7 Able, over!’

Ordering the infantry to leave their lorries and to use their initiative, Pettit roared up the column with his troop until he found Millar’s tanks heavily engaged with several camouflaged Type 95s on one side of the road, and Japanese infantry on the other. The enemy had chosen his position so that he would be shooting into the thinner side armour of the British tanks at close range, whilst the Lees would be unable to use their sponson-mounted 75-mm main armament without turning the whole tank, with the added disadvantage that the turret-mounted
37-mm might not be able to depress sufficiently at close range to bear on their small opponents.
*

The Japanese captain had obviously given considerable thought to the technical aspects of his problem, but he had been a little too single-minded in laying out his ambush. Thus, whilst Major Pettit might employ the cavalryman’s traditional understatement in describing the situation as being ‘most confusing and rather dangerous’, it was obvious that the way out of trouble lay straight ahead, into the clearing, and he ordered both troops forward.

As Millar’s troop was moving off, an enemy round penetrated the petrol tank of the last vehicle, which began to burn fiercely. As the crew jumped for it, Pettit paused to let them scramble aboard, but one was killed and another wounded almost at once.

Once in the clearing, the five remaining Lees went about, bringing all their armament, 75-mm, 37-mm and machine guns, into action. The position of the combatants was now exactly reversed—the Japanese were themselves sandwiched between infantry on one side and tanks on the other. For once, however, they were shooting accurately, killing SSM Whiting in his turret and smashing in Pettit’s episcope before the British weight of fire began to take effect.

Suddenly, the enemy infantry began to melt away into the jungle, and the Japanese tank crews panicked. Instead of reversing into deeper cover, which would have put the British tanks’ bigger guns at a disadvantage had they tried to follow, they broke out of their ambush position and tried to drive
past
the Carabiniers.

It was a disastrous move, and ended with five of their vehicles blazing fiercely, and a sixth captured after being knocked out. This ended the only engagement during the campaign in Burma in which Japanese armour actually attempted to bring to battle an approximately equal number of British tanks, and was a shattering blow to the already shaky morale of that arm of their service. From then on, they avoided further contact with British tanks if this was humanly possible.

20th Division completed its withdrawal to the Shenam saddle, the eastern entry to the Imphal plain, where it remained during the ensuing battle, and the captured Type 95, repaired
by A Squadron’s fitters, was sent to Imphal itself for subsequent presentation to the Army Commander with the compliments of 3rd Carabiniers.

Elsewhere, however, the withdrawal to the plain had not been conducted with the same smooth efficiency. To the south, Major-General Cowan’s 17th Indian Division, which had furthest to travel from its operational area around Tiddim, did not receive the order to pull back until it was almost too late, and then delayed moving for a further twenty-four hours. This delay was almost fatal, for General Yanagida had already despatched his 214th Regiment on a wide right-flanking march which cut in behind Cowan, ensuring that he would have to fight his way out.

To counter this, Scoones despatched two brigades, the 37th and 49th from 23rd Division, southwards, to assist Cowan’s withdrawal. With them went A Squadron, 7th Light Cavalry.

The Seventh was a regiment with a lot of personality. It fought extremely hard and was noted for its dash and drive, and by no means least for its sense of humour.
*
In all this it was a reflection of its commanding officer, Lt-Colonel J. M. Barlow, an officer who knew exactly how to get the last ounce of effort out of his men, whether smashing in bunkers around Imphal or exploiting in the true cavalry role later in the campaign.

As A Squadron moved south, they received an order to despatch a troop with all possible speed to the zone of the fighting, as tank support was a most pressing requirement. The troop chosen was Lt J. S. Morgan’s No 1 Troop, and with it went the good wishes of the entire Indian Armoured Corps, since these were the first Indian tank crews to go into action. After a minor brush, Morgan was ordered to break through and contact 17th Division. The story of his very bloody engagement is told by Sowar Jot Ram, an operator, and whilst the original would have been spoken in Urdu, Colonel Barlow’s translation mirrors his thoughts and shows the relationship between the young British officer, placed in a difficult and extremely dangerous situation, and the older, more experienced Indian VCOs.

We are on the march, moving further up into the mountains—all along the same winding road. What was that? Gun fire? And not
very far ahead—sounds like it, but I can’t be sure with the sound of the engine. Perhaps we will fight at once. What is the danger? The Japs can do nothing to our tanks.

A Sahib in a Gurkha paltan stops our column. There are not many Gurkhas here, but our escort is strengthened, and the Gurkhas scramble over our tanks and chatter. They are always laughing. They are like children, and like to play with new things.

The Sahib gives orders. We are to wait here until called for in front. We must take this chance to eat first, and then drink. There is a lull in the battle in front. Then suddenly it starts again. Heavy firing—machine guns and guns. Have the Japs any guns that can harm us? They make a lot of noise. Our aeroplanes fly past overhead. Why don’t they attack the Japs? This roti
†
is stale and dry, I will just have a drink.

A Gurkha Sahib with blood on his face comes running up to our Sahib. He is out of breath, and talks quickly to our Sahib. The signal to mount and start up. Gurkhas scramble up all over our tanks. Drivers are ordered to be ready to close down at once. Operators close down now. What is all this closing down? The paltan are sitting outside, seven or ten to each tank.

‘Advance!’

We go off down the road. We are going fast on this dangerous road. The driver is the thrice cursed product of a blind donkey—we were nearly over the edge then. I wish I could open up and see. We make such a noise, I can’t even hear if there is any firing going on. We have not stopped once, so the paltan must still be sitting on the tanks. It must be all right.

What is that in front? The road is blocked with trees. It must be our barrier to stop the Japs. The order comes,

‘Close down,’

then,

‘Action front!’

and

‘Mike One Baker to watch flanks and rear!’

I can hear the firing now, and something heavy has hit our tank with a loud thud. The tank is full of smoke, but no one is hurt.

Wah! Wah! Three of the Gurkhas on the tank in front have fallen off before they could get down. There is a lot of blood on the road. I wish I could see more. I wish I were a gunner instead of having to sit on this set. I have to pass a more difficult test, and am only a Grade 3 Operator, and that addle-headed Munshi Ram firing the gun is the dunce of a dozen villages, but he is Grade 2 Gunner-Mech. I can see nothing to shoot at with the lap gun.

The Sahib is on the air.

‘Mike One Baker, Risaldar Sahib, traverse right rear at once! Quick, you bloody fool, you’ll be too late!’

‘Mike One Able, watch front and left flank, remainder right rear. Fire co-ax or cannister.’
*

Oh, well done—shabash, Sahib, just in time though.

Bang!

There is a flash in front of my eyes. I cannot see, even in front. It must be the Japs coming I open fire with the lap gun. There is smoke in the tank.

I get a kick in the back of the head. My ears are scorched with shameful abuse on the inter-comm.

‘By the tail of your grandmother who most assuredly swung from the trees in the jungle, if you fire at nothing again, I will pistol you myself!’

How could I tell there was nothing. I could not see for the smoke in front. I can see very little now. The Jemadar Sahib certainly gets his tongue round some wicked abuse. I only hope he wasn’t talking on the ‘A’ set.
†

Is this what a battle is like? What can I do about it? It is hot and there is smoke in the tank, but no one seems to be hurt. Can those Gurkhas still be alive? The Jemadar Sahib tells us that the officer of the Gurkhas is badly hurt. He is sitting down by the troop leader’s tank talking to our Sahib. The Jemadar Sahib can only see two of our escort who are not either killed or wounded. He says that most of the Japs are in positions, and that we have hit several of them with our big guns. A party of twenty Japs tried to rush our right rear. Our infantry killed some, and then the two tanks caught them in time with cannister and co-ax. The Japs died in much blood.

Our troop leader comes on the air.

‘All stations Mike One, we have got to get on to the paltan who are being heavily attacked in front. Mike One Able, get up to that barrier in front and try to cross it, also tell me if you can get round it. I will cover you. Mike One Baker, watch our rear and flanks.’

The Sahib is speaking quietly and slowly as if we were on parade. Perhaps he doesn’t know that our tank has been hit and is full of smoke. The smoke is clearing now and no one seems hurt. A crowd of men rush out from the right at the leading tank They are throwing bombs. I fire with the lap gun and see my tracer go into them. This time I am not kicked. Everyone is firing. The Japs fall in heaps on the ground. The Jemadar Sahib says ‘Shabash!’ It is all very exciting.

The Jemadar Sahib says, ‘I hope we will be able to get forward soon, there is not much daylight left.’ I notice it is getting darker, I am a little frightened. What will happen?

The leading tank is trying to climb the barrier. I ask the Jemadar
Sahib how far forward are the paltan we are to join. The Jemadar Sahib says ‘Chup!’
*

The Risaldar Sahib in the leading tank comes on the air.

‘I think I can climb the barrier, but if I do, my tank will fall nose first into the ditch beyond. There is no way round. I can get off the road, but there is a deep nullah with steep banks across the road. These progeny of swine have made a good block.’

The Sahib answers, ‘We must get on before dark; stand by, I am coming up to you.’

The Sahib’s tank goes forward. This time there is no rush from the Japs, perhaps they are all dead. It is dark and I can just see through my vision slit. I think it is raining as everything is blurred.

The Sahib comes on the air.

‘All stations Mike One. We cannot get over the barrier. Open up carefully and have your tommy guns ready. Pick up any of the escort you can, and keep turrets opened up, the Japs cannot see to shoot now. When the escorts are picked up, we will back away from here, and then return to the post we left.’

The Sahib does not say ‘Over’ or ‘Out’. He is always bad at procedure. Who cares? They talk on the air again.

‘Mike One Able, I have got three Gurkhas. Two of them are wounded. They are very brave, but they say all the rest are dead.’ Then, ‘Mike One Baker, I have the Gurkha Jemadar Sahib who is badly hurt. They are all on the tank now and I am ready to start.’ The Sahib says, ‘O.K., back slowly, keep opened up with tommy guns ready. The road is steep and very slippery in this rain. Take care.’

We start moving; everything seems quiet. There are lots of directions to the driver and some abuse. The Jemadar curses the rain and the dark and the driver. Then he laughs and says, ‘No matter, we shall soon be back in the paltan camp.’ The Sahib says, ‘Halt! My tank has slipped over the edge and is stuck. Mike One Able, turn round where you are, then come and tow me out.’

There is a long wait. The Sahib is out of his tank with his tommy gun. He comes and speaks with the Jemadar Sahib. One tank cannot tow him out, our tank must help. All the Gurkhas are on the ground ready for action. They are very quiet, but are still laughing and grinning. They must be quite mad, but they are very brave. They say that their wounds are nothing.

Oh sorrow, the Gurkha Sahib has died, and they are laying him down. They are not laughing now. We all work trying to tow the Sahib’s tank clear. We dig and try again. It is no good. The Sahib tells the Risaldar Sahib to take his tank back to the paltan position, and try to get some more men so that we can make a position round the tanks. The Risaldar Sahib takes his tank back.

The Sahib goes round checking the positions. We dismount our AA guns and put a gunner in each tank. He seems to think that everything is all right. Perhaps the Sahib is as mad as the Gurkhas. He is very comforting. We all eat a little and have a drink. The
Gurkhas are smiling again. Everything is very quiet. We are waiting.

There is suddenly a great noise of firing from our paltan position behind us. Flares go up, and verey lights. Many bombs go off. We can hear shouting quite clearly. It must be the Japs. The noise gradually dies down, and then we can hear a tank engine. The Risaldar Sahib brings his tank back, but there are no infantry with him. He says that the paltan second-in-command in the rear position says he is very sorry, but he had so few men he can spare none just now. He has been heavily attacked, and expects another attack any moment. He suggests that our Sahib leaves his tank and comes back to help him defend the perimeter. He has heard on the wireless that the rest of our squadron has come into the area, and more tanks and infantry should come up and help us tomorrow. In any case, in the morning he will try and help to get our tank out.

Our Sahib says nothing, and thinks for a while. Then he says, ‘I am not going to leave these tanks, or even the one that is stuck. These Gurkhas have fought so stoutly, we can fight as well. Everything is very quiet, and perhaps the Japs don’t know exactly where we are. If you go back now, they will think from the noise that all the tanks are back in the position. The paltan Sahib will be able to spare men in the morning when his position is easier to defend. You, Risaldar Sahib, will take your tank back, and bring help in the morning.’
*

The Risaldar says, ‘If you stay here, I will stay too. Together we can defeat the Japs. Where shall I put my tank and dismount my Browning?’

The Sahib says, ‘Sorry, Risaldar Sahib, but you will go back and return with help in the morning.’

The Risaldar Sahib salutes, and gets back in his tank. I think he does not agree with the Sahib’s plan.

Everything is very quiet. Suddenly, a Gurkha challenges in a quiet voice. Then he fires a short burst. There is a cry, and the noise of people scrambling down the khud.
†
He scrambles forward; there is a strangled cry. The Gurkha comes back grinning, and wiping his kukri. He says there was one dead and one wounded man left behind; now there are two dead. Everything is very quiet again. Even if permission were given, no one could sleep or rest. I do not feel tired. We wait for day.

Is the night never going to end? The moon comes up early in the morning, but there are clouds and we can hardly see. Then the pale dawn starts breaking. We hear a tank engine start up and come towards us. It gets a little lighter. It is still quiet. Then everything happens at once.

I do not know what happened even now. There were mortar
bombs, and grenades exploding everywhere. Everyone is shooting. Men are rushing about and falling everywhere. There is shouting, I see a crowd of Japs rushing at us. They come right into the middle of their own bombs. I fire my ack ack Browning until it stops. The Risaldar Sahib’s tank comes up and drives right over them. There are more Japs. Gurkhas charge with the bayonet and shoot at the same time. A Jap falls out of a tree nearly on top of me. His head is a horrible mess. There is some fitful firing, and then things are quiet. A mortar bomb falls every now and then, but they are landing down the khud below us. Is anyone alive? I can see the Jemadar Sahib staggering about. He is hurt with blood streaming from his neck and shoulder. I can see the Sahib’s gunner, lying half out of his turret. He must have been looking over the top.

The Sahib gives orders. He is looking happy. He must be quite mad. The Sahib says, ‘Quickly, Dafadar Hari Singh, get the breach block out of my tank, smash the wireless set, scatter the Browning parts down the khud, and then come and join me. Risaldar Sahib, and you Havildar, get all the Gurkha wounded you can on that tank, then take all the infantry wounded back to the camp. I shall collect the survivors of the tank crews and bring them back.’

The wounded are collected, and the Sahib orders the Risaldar’s tank and the surviving Gurkhas back to camp.

There are very few Gurkhas left. There are many Jap dead all round us—at least thirty. Dafadar Hari Singh and two men are still in the Sahib’s tank. The Risaldar Sahib and the Gurkhas are waiting. The Sahib tells them to be off and he will follow. They obey.

The Sahib orders us to get into the Jemadar Sahib’s tank. We crowd in, six of us, including the wounded Jemadar. I am at my lap gun again. I have to bend forward as someone is pushing me in the back. The tank starts up and we start moving.

‘We shall soon be safe,’ the Sahib says, and then suddenly, ‘Gunner, traverse right! Quickly!’

There is a terrible scramble in the tank. The Sahib says, ‘Steady … On! Can you see them?’ Japs coming down through the jungle. Fire cannister on my order. Operator, watch the front with that lap gun. Driver, keep moving, damn you! Jemadar Sahib, get someone to open the pistol port, and shoot through it with a tommy gun!’

Bang—bang—bang! The tank is full of smoke.

The Sahib says, ‘Pull the main fire extinguisher—quick, anyone who can reach it!’ Then, ‘Look out! Here they come, gunner! Fire!’ I see some Japs with something on the end of a pole. I fire the lap gun, traversing all I can. The Japs fall in heaps. The Jap with the pole reaches the tank and then there is another bang.

Everything is suddenly very quiet. The Sahib says, ‘Driver, what’s the matter? Can’t you move?’ The driver says, ‘No. I think a track, or both tracks are broken.’ ‘Hell!’ says the Sahib.

The Risaldar Sahib comes on the air.

‘Sahib, what has happened? Why aren’t you with us? I have run
out of petrol on the way back, but am covered. The paltan Sahib says the rest of the squadron and two companies are coming up the road to relieve us.’

The Sahib then explains what has happened and tells the Risaldar to send help as soon as it arrives, but not to send a few men, otherwise they would all get scuppered. Then he says to us, ‘Watch through the pistol port. Gunner, watch where you are facing. Operator, watch front. Help will soon be here.’

It seems that hours pass. Nothing happens. It is terribly hot and stifling, all huddled up in this tank. The Sahib says, ‘Hullo, what’s this? He looks all right.’

The Jemadar Sahib, looking through the pistol port, says, ‘Be careful Sahib. He is dressed like a Gurkha, but I don’t like the look of him. Shall I shoot?’