Patteson had broken free at about 0400, when a further attempt to break through the block had failed. It was then decided to await first light before trying again.
At 0700 D and E Troops Essex Yeomanry opened up, and B Squadron advanced giving direct fire support to the two weak infantry battalions that were working their way forward on either side of the road. During this advance, the Japanese sent a force of their own through the jungle, which suddenly emerged behind the Yeomanry, and attacked the guns. These people were seen off by a troop of tanks and some infantry, and B Squadron was able to batter its way through, although the defenders were present in such strength that before anyone else was able to follow, the block was re-established.
At about 1130 a message from Brigadier Anstice was received in Prome. Anstice felt that unless a heavy attack was put in on the road blocks from the north, there was no hope of getting any of the soft-skinned vehicles out. B Squadron 2 RTR prepared for an attack with 63 Infantry Brigade, but for some reason this was never mounted.
Back at the block, fighting had continued with undiminished fury. It was decided that the whole force would charge the obstruction, tanks mingled with lorries and guns, and get as much through as possible, regardless of cost. The order of march would be part of A Squadron, led by Major Llewellen Palmer, RHQ, part of the regimental echelon, the rest of A Squadron with Brigade HQ and the rest of the echelon, then the infantry lorries, the guns, and finally C Squadron acting as rearguard.
To this attempt the Japanese reacted very sharply, knocking out four of A Squadron’s tanks and destroying a large number of lorries, whose crews suffered severely. Nonetheless, A Squadron secured a passage for the survivors of the regimental echelon, and for Brigade HQ, before the trap snapped shut again. So close had been the fighting that a grenade had exploded on the roof of the Brigade command vehicle.
So far, only two tank squadrons, with Brigade and 7th Hussars’ Headquarters and a small number of lorries, had fought their way out of the trap. Remaining were C Squadron, the infantry and the guns.
C Squadron managed to make some progress forward, but was then stalled by the inextricable tangle of wrecked and burning transport which had simply added to the complexities of the road blocks. During the afternoon, the force was bombed continuously, wrecking further lorries.
Towards evening, it was decided that the Japanese were not going to be dislodged, and emergency measures were put into effect. The infantry were to abandon their transport and make their way back to our own lines on foot through the gathering darkness, which was a practical solution, since the Japanese position, though strongly held and in depth lacked any great width, whilst the tanks and guns would fend for themselves and choose their own route.
The plan worked. With the Yeomanry’s guns following, C Squadron charged through a wood and some houses without losing a tank to obtain a clear run past the Japanese, and the fact that the Yeomanry only lost two of their guns in this incredibly cheeky escape is a great tribute to the skill of their drivers, encumbered as they were with a heavy gun and limber. These vehicles were the last to reach Prome from the Shwedaung road block, and when the infantry came in throughout the night, it became possible to count the cost of this abortive operation.
7th Hussars had lost ten tanks, the Essex Yeomanry two guns, and the infantry over 300 men. Neither men nor material were replaceable, and very little had been achieved. The Hussars’ wrath spilled over into their War Diary.
‘The next morning (i.e. 31st March) we moved to where we had been before this useless venture had begun. The Regiment only had 38 tanks now and had lost a number of B vehicles. We had been forced to fritter ourselves away in country entirely unsuitable to tanks.’
Such an entry in an official document may well border on the insubordinate, but clearly illustrates a wealth of opinion. In all fairness to General Cowan, it must be emphasized that the original idea was not his.
Throughout the following day the Japanese closed in on Prome, which had already been heavily bombed, and during the early hours of the morning began their assault. The town could not be held, and C Squadron 2 RTR were ordered to hold a line astride the road about two miles to the north, through which the garrison, 63 Brigade, could retire.
The night was very dark, and visibility was limited to a few yards. Thinning out, 63 Brigade parties continued to filter through the tanks throughout the night, until at about 0600 Brigade HQ reported that they were clear, and the tanks then withdrew slowly behind the rearmost infantry until 48 Brigade’s position was reached, where they were ordered to patrol to the east.
‘At about 0700,’ wrote Major Rudkin, ‘I moved about half a mile east of Brigade HQ, and suddenly saw a column of about 500 of the enemy marching due north about 2,500 yards away. This enemy force had some horses and towed guns but were mostly infantry marching in close column. I at once reported the column to RHQ by wireless and ordered two troops with Squadron HQ to give chase. We were unable to get closer than 2,000 yards owing to a dry river bed which we were unable to cross, and I moved the Squadron back to 48 Brigade’s position. Had we managed to get within range of this column there is little doubt we could have inflicted heavy casualties on the enemy as he was marching in close column and seemed unaware of our existence.
‘When we were about 300 yards short of 48 Brigade HQ very heavy and accurate mortar fire started to fall around the tanks and this fire soon spread to Brigade HQ. It was evident that a strong attack was coming in. The heavy mortar fire caused some disorganization, as the HQ was trying to pack up and move, with the result that there was very little control. As the fire increased, the withdrawal became a rout with the infantry straggling back disorganized up the road. The Squadron tried to do all it could to cover this withdrawal, but there was no enemy to be seen, only this devastating barrage of fire.’
Meanwhile, whilst 48 Brigade were withdrawing, A Squadron 2 RTR was in position about two miles to the north at Ngabain, and the Squadron Leader, Major N. H. Bourne, had also sent out patrols to the east. Both patrols made contact with the column that had been seen by Rudkin earlier that morning, one beating off an infantry attack that was inexplicably made in extended order, and the other shooting up a column of mules which scattered.
Whilst these small actions were taking place, General Cowan was confirming to Brigadier Anstice that a strong enemy force was known to have left Prome by a forest track which ran east of and parallel to the main road. This force was clearly outpacing 17th Division’s tired brigades, and he regarded the situation as being very serious, as the infantry were exhausted by constant marching and fighting. Hearing this, Lt-Colonel Yule at once suggested that two of 2 RTR’s squadrons should ferry the infantry twelve miles back to Dayindabo, whilst the third squadron provided a rearguard. This suggestion was adopted at once, and for the next eight hours the tanks of B and C Squadrons ran a shuttle service, picking up the rearmost infantry and dropping them in Dayindabo, which was held by a brigade of 1st Burma Division. Altogether, some 2,500 men were moved in this way, over distances varying from five to twelve miles, the largest number carried on one tank being thirty-five Gurkhas.
Acting as rearguard, A Squadron had had to cover some difficult going, and on several occasions the tanks had to tow each other out of dried up river beds. However, they had some reward during the afternoon when the rear troop was able to watch the enemy column emerge from the jungle several hundred yards to the south, and establish a road block. This occurred only twenty minutes after the last of the infantry had passed this point, and entirely justified Cowan’s fears that his Division was in danger of being cut off.
For the next few days the withdrawal continued through Allanmayo to Taungwingyi. The Japanese did not attempt to interfere, but showed signs of catching up with the rearguard on the evening of 7th April. Near the village of Myaungbintha B Squadron 2 RTR were covering the embussing point of 16th Brigade when about 2100 they heard what sounded like tanks moving through the village. The noise conti
nued for about ten minutes, and then stopped.
By 0030 the embussing had been completed, and Major Bonham-Carter sent back half his squadron to act as escort, while the remainder acted as rearguard. No sooner had the escort troops left the squadron than the strange tank engines started up again in the village, and as the column of lorries began to move off three vehicles with lights full on and which sounded like Stuarts appeared round a bend several hundred yards down the road. Bonham-Carter at once ordered his rear troop engage, which they did immediately, bringing the enemy vehicles to a halt, claiming one definite and two probable hits, in spite of the darkness and the gun flashes which destroyed the tank commanders’ carefully preserved night vision. While this action was in progress two orange verey lights went up east and west of the enemy tanks, which from past experience indicated that the Japanese infantry and mortar teams were in position. The action was then broken off, and B Squadron withdrew, halting from time to time to listen for signs of enemy pursuit, without hearing anything.
The enemy tanks could easily have been Stuarts lost in the fighting at the Shwedaung road block, and if their intention had been to get amongst the lorries of the withdrawing 16th Brigade, then the idea was a good one. Unfortunately, the plan took no account of the professional expertise of 7th Armoured Brigade, and its execution possessed that uniquely clueless quality so peculiar to the Japanese armoured corps.
However, 2 RTR reasoned, if the enemy did intend to try and do clever things with his captured Stuarts at night, precautions had better be taken, especially as the Japanese now had the capacity to net in on the Brigade’s frequencies.* Therefore, when tank troops were called in late to squadron leaguers, they were required to identify themselves by answering a simple question the answer to which could only be known to members of the squadron, such as the Sgt-Major’s nickname.
On 11th April definite proof was obtained that the enemy was using captured tanks when a 7th Hussar patrol clearly sighted a Stuart flying a Japanese flag. Unfortunately, the range was too great to permit an engagement.
By the evening the Japanese main body had closed up, and 48 Brigade were subjected to attacks throughout the night, which they beat off with the assistance of half of A Squadron 2 RTR. At first light the enemy were still attacking, and the remainder of the Squadron was sent up, harrassed on their way by the constant smack of snipers’ bullets against the tanks. On their arrival, the heart suddenly went out of the enemy, who had lost heavily, and during the morning the tanks mounted a small counter attack on the village of Thadodan to speed them on their way.
This attack succeeded in clearing the village, although the accompanying infantry quickly ran out of ammunition, having all but exhausted their supply during the previous night’s fighting, and the Japanese defenders, who were described as being ‘demoralized’, took refuge in a nullah, where the tanks could not get at them. Here they remained all day, until during the afternoon the enemy began to shell the village, and the infantry were sent back to 48 Brigade’s position whilst the Stuarts remained covering the village. One of the tanks was hit and burned fiercely, although the crew evacuated safely. Towards last light, A Squadron retired, to the relief of the trapped Japanese, who had very nearly been cut off by two troops of C Squadron, sent out to patrol to the west of the village.
That morning C Squadron and RHQ had broken leaguer in very close country, and come under sporadic fire from one or two 75-mm guns, which were evidently deployed very close by, judging from their reports. In attempting to range on them, the Essex Yeomanry’s FOO almost knocked himself out when the first round landed yards from his OP.
Lt Banner’s troop was then detailed to move a few hundred yards to the south and try and spot the guns from there. The troop was held up by a dry river bed, and Banner dismounted to reconnoitre on foot. He was never seen alive again.
B Squadron had carried out a sweep with infantry during the day. Near Alebo, the tanks had caught a party of twenty Japanese in the open, sending ten of them to join their ancestors, plus a few probables.
The regiment spent a quiet night, although small arms fire was heard continuously from the surrounding infantry positions. During the morning a C Squadron patrol caught a Japanese mule train carrying 75-mm ammunition, and shot it up.
However, the general situation was beginning to deteriorate. The Japanese, checked by 48 Brigade, had by-passed the position to the west, and were pushing up the Irrawaddy. They had taken Migyaungye, and were now heading for the vital oil installations at Yenaungyaung and Chauk.
During the afternoon of 14th April 7th Hussars relieved 2 RTR, and the latter were ordered to proceed north along the Magwe road and go into reserve. To some extent, 7th Hussars were now operating in a tactical vacuum, since the main body of the enemy had pushed past the British position, but extensive patrolling was carried out and there was daily contact with the Japanese. A typical patrol was that carried out by Lt Palmer in company with Sgt Barr.
‘We had a very large area to cover and were told to search several villages. The first one we entered was crowded with Burmese refugees who were panic-stricken at our approach. I questioned several but could get no coherent information, so moved on towards Songgon.
About 0930 I was just approaching the village from the south when I saw Barr gesticulating violently at some undergrowth near a pagoda. I saw some twenty figures running away towards the village. They looked very like Gurkhas and wore similar slouch hats. I called up Richard Thornton and asked if he had any troops in the area. As the answer was no, I gave the area a general brassing up with the Brownings and withdrew to some clear ground 300 yards back to observe.
Since all appeared quiet, I decided to have a closer look and circled round to the other side of the village. I could see nothing, so rather rashly decided to patrol through. I was just approaching a small pagoda when I saw two men hiding behind it. They seemed very furtive but I thought they were Indians. As I was very suspicious of the figures I had seen previously, I tried to attract their attention and signalled them to come forward, but as they did nothing I concluded that they thought we were Japanese tanks.
I told my driver, Tpr Watson, to advance slowly, and rather theatrically waved a small Union Jack we had on board. As I came up to the pagoda one of the men jumped out and threw what appeared to be a glass phial, which missed the tank; a few days later I was to learn what was in the phial.
It was ideal tank-stalking country, so I gave them a burst of Browning and decided to draw back to more open country, discretion being the better part of valour. We gave them a good pasting with both 37-mm and Browning and then moved quickly in a large circle round the village.
We now knew where we stood, so moved to a good fire position and gave the village a good hammering. I reported that I thought the village was strongly held, and Noel Shorten came up as OP and he soon had the 25-pounders on the village. After about an hour the enemy appeared to withdraw to the far side.
About 1830 I was told to rejoin the Squadron, and on the way came across twenty pack mules which appeared to have escaped from our lines. Since they would obviously prove invaluable to the Japs, there was nothing else to do but shoot them. This was a most distasteful but necessary job, which was incredibly difficult to do as the mule is a tough creature who can take a lot of punishment.
I had left my tank to shoot some with my sub-machine gun when suddenly some really heavy stuff started being thrown at us. I hastily re-mounted and started moving at full speed. I had no idea where the fire position was, but the old Jap must have had us under observation as the fire was uncomfortably close. As far as I can recollect this fire was not HE and I concluded they must have tanks or anti-tank guns in the area. I spent an hour trying to spot the enemy position, and I thought I could hear tanks moving. They sounded like Stuarts, and it could be that they were using some of our Stuarts which had been knocked out earlier in the campaign. I asked permission to rejoin the Squadron and got back as it was getting dark.
M
any of 7th Armoured Brigade’s troop leaders had experiences similar to Palmer’s, but this particular patrol is interesting on two counts. First, the men in slouch hats who he had first taken for Gurkhas and then Indians, were in fact Thais, Thailand having been forced by Japan to declare war on Britain; and secondly on account of the glass phial which one of the Thais had thrown at his vehicle, a weapon which was used again on 16th April, when his troop was once again on patrol, in company with that of Lt John Parry.
John went down the road to the junction, whilst I was sent to a covering position near that I had occupied the previous evening. After moving down the road to Milestone 10, I then cut across country coming out on the main road at Milestone 288, where we tucked the tanks away in a mangrove plantation. The morning was uneventful apart from an RAF raid on Magwe aerodrome.
Meanwhile, John’s troop had reached the junction and bumped into a Jap road block. His troop sergeant, Sgt Campbell, got too close, and a Jap jumped on the back of the tank and threw a phial into the turret. Apparently this phial contained some form of knockout gas which immediately overcame the crew inside the turret. Campbell, who was unaffected as his head was outside the turret, acted with great presence of mind, and slid into the driving compartment, sitting on the unconscious driver. He managed to manoeuvre the tank out of trouble and then scrambled back into the turret and operated his guns on the enemy position. For this action he was subsequently awarded the MM. I assume that this was the same type of phial which had narrowly missed my tank a week or so earlier.
In his excellent history of the 7th Hussars during World War II, The Seventh and Three Enemies, Brigadier Davy suggests that the Japanese were using some form of phosphorous grenade, but the Chemical Defence Establishment at Porton Down does not agree with this.
Tank Tracks to Rangoon Page 6
