Escape to Pagan (34 page)

My grandmother visited that lonely graveyard every day to make sure her youngest son's grave was undisturbed. After a while I and some of the younger boys (hearts racing) sneaked past the pagoda and rushed in among the graves to pick up fallen bay fruit, then rushed out again. By that time the woman's bones had been scattered and splinted by hyenas; only long wisps of her black hair remained.

“Somehow news of the war
[be it out of date]
filtered into camp. We never knew where it came from but the local Burmese were now becoming disillusioned with their new allies. In 1944-45 Allied planes began attacking targets in and around Tada u. To add to our worries, people who lived in our terrace began to disappear during the night; no one knew what had happened to them as often their meagre possessions were taken away. We began to suspect the Kempeitai. Our dread of them grew.

“We were so excited when we heard rumours that British troops had crossed the Chindwin and some time later had crossed the Irrawaddy River. There were also rumours that the American and Chinese Armies were still pushing the Japs back. We waited expectantly to hear the sound of fighting. We were so happy at the possibility of being liberated and watched the behaviour of the resident Japs, expecting them to start running around jabbering in that excited way of theirs. But they did nothing and carried on as usual with their parades and patrols into the hills. It wasn't long before our hopes were dashed by the Japanese, who boasted that ‘the American and Chinese Armies had been defeated and pushed back with severe losses.' They also claimed that the British Army had been beaten and had retreated back across the Irrawaddy and Chindwin rivers, leaving behind many dead and wounded men, equipment and pack animals. The most heartbreaking news of all was that the Japanese Army and Indian forces were attacking India and would soon be in Delhi. It seemed that Burma was still totally occupied by the Japanese. All the same, the amount of Japanese troops passing through Tada u increased and captured British tanks, together with Japanese tanks, were parked on the playing fields.”

These could have been the smaller Jap 94 type tankette or the bigger Type 95. Both tanks were obsolete but had reliable air-cooled engines. Captured British tanks were often used by the Japanese.

“They were very proud of these tanks and had them constantly guarded and covered in cut branches. Curious children were chased away.

“Although we could not see the Indian families, we could hear them celebrating the march on India. But I think most of these poor Indians knew by now that India would end up like Burma, part of the Japanese Empire.”

It was generally believed that the Japanese were natural jungle fighters and had gone through extensive jungle training. This was a myth. The fact is the Japanese had conducted no such general training; the climate in Japan, China, Formosa (Taiwan) and Manchuria did not provide the right environment. Their successes lay in the fact that they were tough, disciplined and conditioned to hardship. In truth, many Japanese were afraid of the jungle. To emphasize this, the Japanese did not succeed in subduing the hill tribes who were masters of jungle warfare. A group of Chindits had been captured by the Japanese in dense jungle. At night, the Japanese guards ordered several large fires to be built around their bivouac then arranged the prisoners into a perfect circle, in the middle of which the Japanese guards slept. Their logic was simple: if a tiger appeared it would help itself to a scrawny prisoner rather than a nice plump Jap.

After the war many people looked on the British Major General Orde Charles Wingate, who created the Chindits, a long-range jungle penetration unit, as some kind of eccentric genius and the master of jungle warfare. This was not the general opinion. Eccentric he certainly was; a genius in jungle warfare, perhaps not. Wingate had no previous jungle experience, having served in North Africa against the Italians. It was said by many that he sometimes briefed his officers in Africa lying stark naked on his camp bed.

The brave Chindits were usually marched until they were too worn out to fight. Long range penetrations, it is said, did the enemy little harm; yet they gave those at home a great boost to moral. However the Chindit defensive blocks were with one exception a total success. It is said Wingate asked too much of his brave soldiers. Many were left behind. The Burmese jungle is a dangerous place for a man who had the misfortune to become separated from his comrades. A guest (ex-Chindit) staying at my hotel during the late seventies recounted an event during the Burma campaign concerning a personal friend of his, a lance corporal. The column of Chindits reached the top of a hill and decided to brew tea before descending. The lance
corporal walked a short distance to check the route of their descent. He never returned. Despite a search by his comrades, no trace of him was found. I have sometimes pondered this man's fate on that far off humid Burmese afternoon. Suicide perhaps; but no shot was heard. Did he just walk away? Was the soldier's death natural, falling prey to a predator? Was he being intently watched by the golden malevolent eyes of a feline? Or had he attracted the attention of a large Burmese python? If it was the former, death would have been instantaneous; a single bite to the neck severing the vertebra. He would then be carried away. There would be no tell-tale blood to indicate such an encounter. Death in the coils of a large python would be slow and traumatic once a thick muscular coil encased his ribcage, allowing just one soft groan perhaps before suffocation. We shall never know.

When Wingate was killed in a plane crash in India in 1944, Brigadier Lentaigne was chosen to replace him. Mike Calvert, an excellent soldier and leader, would have been a more popular choice. Brigadier Lentaigne adopted the Grand old Duke of York tactics and marched his men up the hill and all the way down again, until they were exhausted.

The Japanese invasion of India caught out the top brass. Despite reports by the Karen and Gurkha levies that the Japs were crossing the Chindwin in battalion strength, little or no action was taken. It seems a few of the high and mighty had short memories. When it was established that the enemy was about to attack, regiments were ordered to dig in then received new orders to change positions at the last minute: shades of 1942. The enemy only just failed to reach the massive dumps at Dimapur. If they had, the battle of Kohima would have been lost. If it was not for the brave defence of Shanshak by the Indian Parachute Regiment led by Hope Thomson, the enemy would have arrived several days earlier while nervous commanders were still shuffling their defences. The successful defence of Kohima and Imphal were due to the bravery of men and officers in the badly prepared defences. General Slim reshaped Allied tactics.

“News of the campaigns to the west and north flooded in to Tada u. For us there was nothing worse than first receiving good news, only to have our hopes of liberation dashed a few days later. News of the Japanese advance into India sent many into despair. We all expected India to fall quickly considering the situation there, but after weeks of fighting the monsoon broke and many Japanese sick and wounded began arriving at Tada u. This gave us hope. Some soldiers brought back parachutes of different colours and sold them to the Burmese; cloth was difficult to obtain during the war but unfortunately the parachutes were not made of silk. The Japanese now began telling the Burmese that the war would last a hundred years. Then one day we heard a name whispered: Iwo Jima.”

CHAPTER 23

The Lost Japanese Patrol

BURMA

“One day a group of Japanese soldiers set out from Tada u in a lorry on an anti-partisan patrol; with them was a Burmese tracker. Only the Japanese driver and Burmese tracker returned. The Karens were now coming down from the hills and ambushing Japanese convoys. According to the single Japanese survivor, the patrol had been a victim of an evil Outosan. He claimed the patrol was driving along a lonely jungle flanked track when they passed a large banyan tree and saw a beautiful naked Karen girl standing at the side of it while combing her long black hair. As the Japanese approached the girl, she turned into a large python and attacked them. Seeing this, the rest of the patrol ran into the jungle. We all laughed at the Japanese soldiers' cock-and-bull yarn to hide a very successful ambush by the Karens. We had also been told previously that a Jap pilot had beheaded an enemy pilot with his sword while flying his plane.

“The ambush was the talk of Tada u for many days; the Burmese believed the story and that it signified the end of Japanese rule in Burma. The Karens under British leadership were now coming down from the hills and attacking Japanese outposts. The Japanese made up the most ridiculous lies and repeated them to us with stony faces. My mother said the Japanese were among the most truthful and polite of
races
[amongst themselves that is]
and that they were only just learning how to lie to non-Japanese.”

The naked girl was probably a decoy, knowing the Japanese love of beauty. The Japanese had a healthy respect for the hill tribes and their skill as jungle fighters. These hill tribes inflicted enormous casualties on the Emperor's troops and as a result they suffered terrible revenge. These hill tribes were badly let down after the war by British politicians.

“One day a Burmese boy was playing with a metal object that fascinated you; it was full of small coloured wires and taken from a crashed British plane. You wanted one and asked me and my mother to come with you. My mother said it would be very dangerous and forbade you to leave the house despite your bawling. Some days later we thought you had forgotten about the metal object and let you out to play. My mother then noticed that you were missing. We searched everywhere until a neighbour said she had seen you walking in the direction of the Kempeitai building. This was dangerous. After a long search we returned home hoping to find you there; you were not. It was while we were deciding what to do next that you returned, crying your eyes out.”

On my way to find the plane, I was forced to pass the Kempeitai building. As I walked past, the big doors were closed. I carried on along the track until the camp was out of sight. Stories I had heard about the dangers of wild animals began to worry me and I decided to go back home. On returning again I passed the Kempeitai building. The big doors were now wide open and I could hear the angry bellows of the Japanese soldiers accompanied by high pitched animal-like screams of agony.

I moved nearer to have a look through the big open double doors. A naked man was suspended from the wooden beams by his arms, which were tied behind his back. He was being tortured by two Japanese
Kempeitai policemen. One of the torturers was holding a long length of pointed bamboo which he was pushing into the prisoner. The prisoner was pleading, wailing and screaming for mercy. This sight and the sound of the desperate pleading shocked me and I froze into a numb silence until one of the torturers turned and saw me. He screamed “Kurra – Kurra!” This sent me running home crying. Although much sand has passed through the hourglass since that day, I can still picture the scene vividly, and the glistening pool of blood below the victim. It was the first time I heard a human crying out in mortal agony. What nationality the man was I could not say, but screams of pain must all sound the same regardless.

“British planes began attacking Tada u and the surrounding area. We could feel the vibrations of the bombs and hear the machine guns. Anti-aircraft guns were erected about a quarter of a mile from our terrace. Because of these guns, the Allied planes began to bomb the whole of Tada u camp.

“Then one day bombs fell on the terraces. Luckily our terrace was not damaged as the planes concentrated on the barracks and administration buildings. We no longer felt safe. There were two air raid shelters not far from our house; one used by the Japanese, the second, which was smaller, situated under trees and used by the internees. If we stood up, there was room enough for all.”

This was Mother's favourite story, she was so proud of being British. Being British, she was convinced, saved both our lives that day.

“At midday, you were not allowed to go out and play because of the heat. At this time my mother and I used to tie thick string around your waist to stop you sneaking out when we were asleep. To keep you occupied we got you to massage our feet; first you massaged my mother's feet till
she fell asleep and then massaged my feet. One day my mother was out so you massaged my feet until I was fast asleep. Out of mischief you tied my two big toes together with string. Suddenly I was woken up by the Japanese air raid siren. I got up quickly and immediately fell over – you began laughing and hopping around, while I called you all the names I could think of. By the time I untied my toes, the siren had stopped. I grabbed and pulled you down the stairs. We were only halfway to the shelter when I saw a British fighter plane flying very low firing its machine guns. It was coming straight towards us. My God, we were totally exposed! A bomb exploded nearby and took our breath away; my ears were ringing. We were caught in the sharp painful blast of sand and white dust which made our hair stand upright. Later we suffered with stomach pains. I was still holding your hand. Stay still Brian, look up and smile, I said, the pilot will see we are both British and stop attacking. The British pilot must have seen us as he did not drop any more bombs or use his machine guns again, he just flew away. Standing still and being British saved our lives that day, you know.”

Mum always smiled with pride when she told this story. She was so convinced that we had been recognized by the pilot as British citizens. When older, I never had the heart to tell Mother that what the pilot probably saw was a mad-looking woman and her naked imbecile child, their faces smeared in ashes, hair standing up on end, staring up at him and grinning whilst being bombed and shot up. We must have looked as if we had just escaped from a lunatic asylum. I can remember this incident vividly; the shattering sound of the machine gunning and the compression of the bomb took our breath away and blasted our bare skin with stinging sand particles. The reason the pilot concerned stopped the attack was probably because he had run out of bombs and bullets.