Descent into Hell

by Peter Brune

  But it would seem that not everyone was intimidated by Galleghan’s authoritarian style of leadership. Captain Rowley Richards, RMO, 2/15th Field Regiment:

  . . . we saw him as very much a bully, and a classic example, shortly after we arrived in Malaya . . . we were invited to Black Jack’s Mess for lunch one day. ‘We’, being the CO, the Adjutant, and myself. During the course of lunch, all of Black Jack’s officers were ‘Yes Sir, No Sir,’ all of that sort of stuff. He had ’em all absolutely bluffed . . . Our original CO, John O’Neill, he was a magnificent man. He was a bloody larrikin, brought up in the pool rooms of Melbourne, he was a man’s man . . .

  And during the course of the proceedings one of them said something the other disagreed with. There was a little bit of an argument going on between John O’Neill and Black Jack. And google eyes all around the place, all these officers, ‘Nobody talks to our CO like that!’ And then finally, John O’Neill said, ‘Fred, I’m a guest in your Mess, I can say what I like, you can go and get fucked!’ And Black Jack just backed off.10

  The fact remains, however, that both Galleghan and his 2/30th Battalion performed admirably during the fighting on both the Malay Peninsula and on Singapore Island. Lieutenant-Colonel ‘Black Jack’ Galleghan will feature prominently in our story—and at times controversially—both during the fighting and in Changi.

  Galleghan held little respect and less affection for Maxwell. When the original 27th Brigade commander, Brigadier Marshall, was forced to relinquish his command through ill-health, Bennett chose the 2/19th’s CO, Maxwell, as his replacement, even though Galleghan was the senior battalion commander in the division. When the 27th Brigade arrived in Singapore, Galleghan is alleged to have greeted his new brigade commander with, ‘Well, you need not expect me to congratulate you on the red flannel you’re wearing!11 Galleghan’s attitude did not augur well for their future relationship.

  Because the foremost Japanese thrust had been along the Trunk Road, and with his 22nd Brigade AIF still committed to the Endau and Mersing area, Major-General Gordon Bennett placed his 27th Brigade as the foremost Westforce formation on that axis. The Brigade’s leading unit on the Trunk Road was the 2/30th Battalion, which was deployed nearly five kilometres west of the River Gemas. The rearward town of the same name, where the railway ran from the east coast and met the Trunk Road and railway from the west, was critical to the defence of Johore. Lieutenant-Colonel Galleghan had a battery of the 2/15th Field Regiment and the 16th Anti-Tank Battery, less one troop, in support. Behind the 2/30th was the 2/26th Battalion AIF (Lieutenant-Colonel Boyes). It was positioned between Gemas and Batu Anam, in the Paya Lang Estate, just north of the Trunk Road. Support for the 2/26th was provided by the 29th Field Battery. Behind that battalion was the 2/29th (Lieutenant-Colonel Robertson)—between Batu Anam and Segamat—at Buloh Kasap. Brigadier Maxwell’s 27th Brigade HQ and that of the 2/15th Field Regiment were stationed near Segamat, while Bennett’s advanced Westforce HQ was located at Labis.

  The remaining perimeters of the Westforce defence of the Trunk Road were occupied by the 9th Indian Division, which ‘were allotted various responsibilities from Segamat to Batu Anam, and westward of the main road to guard approaches through Jementah, on a road from Malacca to the west coast’.12

  It is hard to offer any real criticism of Bennett’s Westforce dispositions along the Trunk Road. They had suitable depth and were occupied by fresh, trained and motivated troops whose support was at least adequate. But Westforce did have one major problem: the coastal flank in north-west Johore. Bennett decided to post the inexperienced 45th Indian Brigade, which had only recently arrived in Malaya at Muar. But the Muar River was Westforce’s weakness. However, Percival agreed with Bennett’s deployment of the 45th Brigade because he believed that, as previous enemy attempts to conduct coastal operations had been on a small scale, the main Japanese thrust would continue to be along the Trunk Road. It was therefore anticipated that the 45th Brigade would be capable of dealing with such limited operations. Bennett had been a strong advocate for counterattacks, ambushes and all-round defence. The word ‘withdrawal’ was an abomination to him. He now had his chance to put this conviction into practice. By the employment of an ambush, he believed he could check the Japanese advance and provide the opportunity for a potential offensive.

  The site chosen for the Gemas ambush was in the vicinity of a wooden bridge spanning the Gemencheh River. This location was about eleven kilometres west of that town. The main road from Tampin—the direction from which the Japanese would come—took a bend about 220 metres before leading onto the wooden bridge, which was about fifteen metres long. The ground on that side of the bridge was relatively open. Since the Japanese were expected to arrive in a truck convoy, the bridge would have been visible to them for only a short period of time before they crossed it.

  After crossing the bridge, the Japanese were to travel along about 50 metres of road running through ‘low scrub and offering little concealment’.13 But the actual ambush position was ideal. After covering that first 50 metres after the bridge, the Japanese were to enter a cutting, which was around 40 metres long and about three metres high. Ample concealment was available to the Australians in the jungle above the cutting and for about 350 metres after it.

  As Galleghan could not deploy a full battalion ambush, he allowed his company commanders to draw lots for the honour of Australia’s first engagement in Malaya. Captain Duffy won; B Company was to spring the trap.

  The remaining three companies of the 2/30th were deployed nearly five kilometres behind the ambush site. C Company (Captain Lamacraft) occupied the Battalion’s right flank, which was on the northern side of the Trunk Road, with the added responsibility of establishing a roadblock just forward of the Battalion perimeter. A Company (Major Anderson) was deployed in the centre, adjacent to and south of the road, with Battalion HQ to its rear. D Company (Captain Melville) occupied the 2/30th left flank, which terminated at the railway. Two anti-tank guns were sited on either side of the road: one in the C Company perimeter, and the other on A Company’s side. The 2/15th Field Regiment deployed its guns just to the south of the railway.14

  The plan for the Gemas ambush envisaged the III Indian Corps breaking contact and allowing the Japanese an uninterrupted 48-kilometre approach to the killing ground—uninterrupted because a number of wooden bridges were left intact to encourage over-confidence and complacency. But a critical component of the plan hinged upon the artillery’s ability to plaster the enemy side of the bridge after it had been blown. In the inevitable congestion of vehicles, equipment and troops leading up to the bridge, it was anticipated that the artillery—ordered to fire up to 270 metres over it and along the road and to either side of it, should cause utter carnage. To this end, two signal lines were laid from Duffy’s ambush site: one to Battalion HQ, and the other to the rearward artillery.

  Galleghan made a number of further decisions which were to prove significant. The first concerned anti-tank defence in his main perimeter. Since Galleghan did not believe the enemy would employ tanks against him, he regarded the anti-tank guns as an encumbrance. He even sent a third one back that had arrived later that day.

  In an effort to thoroughly conceal his main perimeter dispositions from air observation, Galleghan also forbade his troops to dig in.15 However, infantry in a defensive position—exposed to potential enemy machine gun, tank, artillery fire and air bombardment—should always be dug in.

  At around 4.30 pm on 13 January 1942, and in driving rain, Captain Duffy led his B Company forward to its ambush position. The last of his troops arrived at dusk. Duffy disposed Lieutenant Head’s 12 Platoon on both sides of, and at the head, of the cutting. This was the closest position to the bridge. B Company HQ was slightly to the rear on its southern side. Head’s platoon had two Bren guns sited to sweep the relatively open ground on the far side of the bridge and a liberal supply of grenades, which would be used to target the anticipated Japanese truck convoy. Lieutenant Gei
ke’s 10 Platoon was stretched along the road on its northern side, while Lieutenant Jones’s 11 Platoon was similarly deployed on the southern side. To secure and hold the company’s Quarry Road withdrawal route, a small detachment was posted near the Trunk Road–Quarry Road junction. The bridge was wired for demolition by engineers of the 2/12th Field Company.

  Captain Duffy’s instructions were clear: he was to let the first column of trucks over the bridge, through the cutting, and up to the Quarry Road junction. This was the time to then blow the bridge, allow his 12 Platoon to hit vehicles and troops on the far side, and signal back to the Battalion perimeter for concentrated artillery fire on the far side of the blown bridge. Concealment, silence and great fire discipline were the keynotes of B Company’s ambush. However, there was one grave error in the preparation of the ambush. On two occasions artillery signal wire was noticed beside the road. Twice orders were given to conceal it, but the orders were not carried out.

  At around 4.00 pm on 14 January 1942, the action began. Private Ray Brown, 12 Platoon, 2/30th Battalion: ‘Brown and Smith were the foremost troops at the ambush, 80 feet [about 24 metres] from the bridge we were going to blow. Our task was to take out the second truck. All the way down the ambush site, each section had a certain truck to take out. We expected them to come on in trucks.’16 Corporal Harry Holden, D Company, 2/30th Battalion:

  We were not to take any prisoners and we were to abandon our wounded. They were straight out orders. Eventually the Japs came. Now the first one through, was a scout on a motor bike. He pulled up and cut the wire. I had a bead on him . . . I could have shot him, he was less than 30 yards away . . . that was a major blue.

  Very shortly the cyclists came through. Being an old bike rider myself, I thought, ‘This looks like the Goulburn to Sydney Bike Race—so many of them, hundreds! Thick as they could get on the road . . . chattering away and skylarking . . . we didn’t have any weapon pits or anything, we were just hiding in the bushes . . . After a while, they seemed to be going through, too many of them for us to handle. Of course Captain Duffy, he was waiting for the mechanized transport . . . anyway, the bridge went up. Did it ever go up! . . . there were bits of bikes and Japs and debris . . . all around us.17

  The Japanese in the main column had no chance. The road was narrow; the Australians were only metres from them; and the Japanese had their rifles strapped to their bikes. In fact so close was the enemy, Corporal Holden found himself unable to risk using his extensive supply of grenades, and instead concentrated on rapid rifle fire, while the Bren gunner alongside him used five magazines. Private Ray Brown used his ‘cup discharger (E.Y. Rifle) with “68” anti-tank bombs from the shoulder’,18 to telling effect across the river. Corporal Holden: ‘There was some plain and fancy shooting there for a while, and a terrible noise . . . we were making all the noise.’19

  Immediately after the bridge went up, Captain Duffy ordered the artillery forward observation officer (FOO) to signal back for the barrage to begin. Faint calls, ‘Robert Charlie, Robert Charlie’ were heard from the rearward perimeter—the artillery were trying to reach their FOO—before the line went dead.20 Galleghan was now in an awkward position. Although all ears strained for telltale sounds of an explosion, nothing was heard over that distance. The artillery barrage that could have caused such devastation never happened.

  The incredible slaughter at and near the Gemencheh River bridge was all over in about ten minutes. Duffy now ordered his company to withdraw.

  When some of them crossed the road, the scale of the massacre became evident. Private Ray Brown:

  [Lieutenant] Harry Head said, ‘We’re moving out now and we’re going down the road to mop up anyone who’s still alive . . . so we moved along the road walking over the bodies—600 blokes, you could hardly walk between them. There’s bikes through people, people without heads, a hell of a mess. I never saw anyone alive actually—if they were alive, they kidded dead.21

  Corporal Harry Holden:

  One thing I do recall, I can’t account for it, the psychologists could . . . after everything went quite, my fellas, we came out with our rifles and bayonets at the high port, yelling our heads off! Just yelling . . . we weren’t saying anything in particular. It must have been some sort of nervous reaction or something.22

  Captain Duffy now ordered a company withdrawal to the Quarry Road rendezvous point. Lieutenant Jones’s 11 Platoon, sited adjacent to Quarry Road, was to act as the rearguard. During the withdrawal, a small number of Japanese who had either been just forward of the ambush and had turned back, or had survived the slaughter, stirred to action. When Lieutenant Head and members of his 12 Platoon began to withdraw, they were attacked by the enemy near a bend in the road, and Head, after shooting an enemy officer, became a casualty. Geike’s 10 Platoon also ran into small numbers of Japanese who were killed or scattered by the bayonet. In this action, Geike was also wounded. Jones’s 11 Platoon, having held their position until the others had gained the Quarry Road exit, then made their way out. After having taken to the jungle, Duffy’s B Company became separated into two groups, both of which returned to their Battalion lines during 15–16 January.

  Late on the night of 14 January, Lieutenant-Colonel Galleghan sent volunteers out in an attempt to repair the signal lines—to no avail. He later sent three patrols out to ascertain Duffy’s B Company whereabouts and to gather intelligence as to the position(s) and size of the enemy force in the area. The first was led by Sergeants Arneil and Hall. At around 11.35 pm they encountered a Japanese patrol estimated at platoon strength, on which they inflicted heavy casualties. The second, under Lance-Corporal Heckendorf, left the Battalion lines at 2.10 am on the 15th in search of B Company, and, although contact was not made with Duffy, this patrol was able to establish that the Japanese had repaired the ambush bridge, and were advancing on the 2/30th perimeter in force accompanied by tanks. Unfortunately, Heckendorf ’s patrol did not return to the Battalion lines until 6.00 pm on 16 January—far too late for its information to be of value.

  The third was a fighting patrol from A Company. Lieutenant Lyn Booth, A Company, 2/30th Battalion:

  The fighting patrol was to go out, make contact with B Company if possible and also find out where the enemy was situated, and if we found them, to attack them . . . at 4.15 we set out across the open ground in front of us with two guides from the Intelligence Section . . . the night was a particularly black night, heavy cloud, it had been raining, there was no moon, and we were in dense rubber . . . the only way we could maintain contact with each other was by . . . each man holding the bayonet scabbard of the man in front . . . I had decided to . . . do a detour and swing around to come in behind where we suspected the enemy were . . . by the time dawn arrived . . . we had found no sign of any B Company forces or of the enemy . . . we pressed on, and at about 8 o’clock we heard chattering in front of us and also the dropping of tail boards of motor vehicles . . . coming up and discharging men. At the same time my leading section came under fire from Japanese who were in position on top of the rise which we were coming up . . . it was a fairly large debussing point and assembly point . . . [the Japanese] appeared to be massing for an attack on the Battalion positions . . . also at the time four tanks came into the area which no one was expecting . . . the best thing to do for us was to get out . . . return to the Battalion and warn them of the situation which was developing.23

  The 2/30th Battalion patrols on 14 and in the early hours of 15 January are noteworthy. First, they demonstrate the extreme difficulty of communication in the Malayan environment at this time. Signal cable was inclined to deteriorate in that moist, humid environment; its repair—especially at night—was both difficult and hazardous; and it required a reasonably static and prolonged use to be effective. It was not a satisfactory means of communication during a fluid withdrawal. Second, movement over any significant distance was hard in that environment. Heckendorf ’s patrol gathered useful information, but was too distant from its base to be abl
e to convey it in time to be of any great use. Even Lieutenant Booth’s fighting patrol—however well executed—was only able to bring in its information virtually as the enemy were about to attack the 2/30th.

  But the real observation to be made from the ambush at Gemas concerns the Japanese. Although badly mauled at the ambush site, within a mere 28 hours they had repaired the bridge, concentrated their force—supported by tanks—and had attacked the 2/30th Battalion. Their infantry’s ability to assault their enemy with tremendous initial power and aggression, their employment of their tanks and, critically, their magnificent engineering skills always enabled them to maintain the initiative. They never seemed to allow their enemy to adequately stabilise his front.

  At around 9.00 am on 15 January, the Japanese began their assault upon the 2/30th Battalion’s main perimeter. A reconnaissance tank appeared, moving cautiously down the cutting with only its turret and cannon visible. On the right or northern side of the road was Sergeant Charlie Parson’s two-pounder anti-tank gun, and, just to its rear on the other side of the road, was Sergeant Ken Harrison’s gun. The remarkable thing about the 4th Anti-Tank Regiment’s Gemas performance—and others during the campaign—was their remarkable success given their equally notable lack of training and experience. Ken Harrison: ‘Compared with these [Japanese] battle-tested veterans, we were babies. Apart from firing six shots out to sea from a few old French 75s, none of us had ever handled an artillery gun since we enlisted. We were going into action with a two-pounder gun we had never fired, except in theory.’24