Then ensued a race between the 2nd and the 19th Divisions for Shwebo. The reconstructed Japanese 15th Division, which had abandoned any further attempt to hold our 19th Division, was now in full retreat to the Irrawaddy. Its place had been taken by a regiment of the Japanese 31st Division which put up a stubborn fight at Kanbalu throughout the 2nd January to cover the withdrawal. The 19th Division broke through, and its leading troops, marching a hard fifty miles to Shwebo, reached the town on the 7th. During the 8th they placed a series of stops to the east and south of the town and proceeded to mop up the Japanese garrison. On the 9th troops of the 2nd Division, after clearing minor opposition on the north-eastern approaches, entered without meeting resistance, for the enemy had that morning attempted to escape, only to be intercepted and very roughly handled by a battalion of the 19th Division some miles south of the town.
The brigade of the 20th Division, which, as already related, had crossed the Chindwin at Mawlaik early in December and moved south-east to surprise the Japanese holding up the 2nd Division east of Pyingaing, struck south from there. With all pack transport it marched by tracks through the forest, until on the 6th January it emerged and surrounded the strongly entrenched enemy communication centre of Budalin, twenty miles north of Monywa. The town fell after bitter fighting against a Japanese garrison of only a hundred, who resisted most gallantly. Only a dozen or so Japanese escaped, but our casualties were over sixty in this small but typical action. The main body of the 20th Division had followed this brigade and now began to close in on Monywa.
As 33 Corps proceeded so vigorously to clear the Shwebo plain and establish its divisions along the Irrawaddy, Messervy’s 4 Corps was on its long march to Pakokku to deliver what we hoped would be the decisive stroke at Meiktila. I had transferred to Messervy’s command the Lushai Brigade, already in the Myittha Valley over fifty miles south of Kalemyo, and 28 East African Brigade, which had recently come into Army Reserve. The Lushai Brigade had been in contact with the Japanese for a long time and 28 Brigade might be mistaken for the 11th East African Division, now being withdrawn after its strenuous monsoon campaign. If these two brigades were used to cover the advance of 4 Corps, I hoped they could create the illusion that only the original 33 Corps formations were in the Gangaw Valley, and 4 Corps still far away on the left of Fourteenth Army. Accordingly, Messervy ordered the Lushai Brigade to take Gangaw and 28 East African Brigade to close up on it. Behind them he turned all the engineer resources I was able to provide—and they were not very great—to supplement his own in improving the track for the 7th Division which was to follow. By the 6th January, the bulk of this division, after a hundred miles march from Tamu, was concealed in the forests ten miles south of Kalemyo, with every available man working to improve the road.
The administrative skill of 4 Corps staff at this period, and indeed throughout the campaign, was taxed to the utmost. Not only had their complete plan been suddenly changed, when I switched them from the left of the army to its extreme right, but they had to arrange the three-hundred-mile march of the whole corps by a very inferior fair-weather track winding through hills. For miles at a time they had, in fact, to make the track. It was difficult enough to get three-ton lorries over it, but when it came to passing through the tank brigade with its fifty-ton load of tank and transporter, coaxing their long wheel bases round tight bends with one edge over a sheer drop, constantly reversing and going forward again, the march became a nightmare in slow motion. The gradients and the dust were at times such that the tanks had to tow their own transporters. Traffic control was a major problem. Imagine the scene if a tank transporter, loaded with a big motor launch, grinding up a hill on the way to Pakokku, met another returning empty, sliding in the dust down the same one-way track above a precipice. That such encounters occurred only at prepared crossing places was one of the things the road control had to watch. How effective that control was can be judged by the fact that there were no major hold-ups.
The loss of our allotted air-transport squadrons fell heavily on all our moves. What would have gone by air now had to go by road, adding to the congestion and the time. The air forces, British and American, were magnificent. The transport planes that remained to us flew incredible hours. They identified themselves completely with the army. It was as much a point of honour with them as with the soldiers that, not only the troops, but all the thousands of tons of supplies and gear required, should get through in time. Airmen, too, realized as well as we did that the whole success of the coming battle depended on the secrecy of 4 Corps’ move. A single Japanese reconnaissance plane, investigating too closely a cloud of dust, might sight a line of tanks moving slowly towards Pakokku, and realize what that meant. Vincent’s 221 Group R.A.F. was responsible that no enemy plane got close enough to do this, and he discharged his responsibility with unsurpassed thoroughness. Throughout daylight his fighters patrolled over the route, and, as far as I know, no Japanese scout ever penetrated his screen without being shot down for his daring. Vincent and his men piled up our debt to them until we could never repay it, and 221 Group R.A.F. had as big a share in our victory, when it came, as any army formation. We were proud to serve with them, but I could not help thinking that sometimes the army recognized their achievements more readily than some of the higher Air Force headquarters.
Gangaw proved rather a tough nut to crack. Messervy did not want to deploy too many troops against it, as that would arouse Japanese suspicions. The lightly-armed Lushai Brigade probed hard, but the Japanese, as ever, resisted stubbornly in well prepared positions. The problem was solved by laying on an ‘Earthquake’, that is, a really heavy—for the Burma front—air bombardment. We called in to our aid the bombers of the Strategic Air Force and a most imposing demonstration of air power was promised. To view it, the corps commander, a couple of air marshals and some other senior officers rather light-heartedly set out with me on the 10th January in a flight of light planes for Gangaw. Guided in the leading plane by a most distinguished air officer, we flew low over very attractive country. Neither my pilot nor I was concerned with navigation; we followed our leader. However, I suddenly realized we had been flying for a long time; I consulted my watch and with a start realized that unless we had travelled in a circle, which we did not seem to have done, we must for about the last half hour have been flying steadily south over Japanese-held territory. I began to take an intense interest in the country below. True enough, we were well beyond Gangaw. I signalled wildly to my companions; my pilot quickly gained height and turned back. The rest followed, we flew north again and after a little circling we found the Gangaw airstrip. Those assembled there to greet us had watched us fly steadily past them to the south, their feelings a mingling of astonishment, alarm, and—I regret to add, amongst the more junior—amusement. The air marshal’s chagrin and the comments on his ability as a navigator were luckily offset by the success of the ‘Earthquake’. The airmen dropped several tons of explosive for every Japanese in the position but, what was better, they dropped them on the position. Then cannon and rocket-firing fighters went in just ahead of the assaulting troops, the last wave, so close to our men that to keep the enemies’ heads down, it had to be a dummy run. Gangaw was taken by the air force and occupied by the Lushai Brigade—a very satisfactory affair. Soon afterwards the gallant Lushai Brigade was assembled and I bade its officers and men farewell. They were then flown out to a well-earned rest in India, after a year of the most strenuous and effective long-range penetration operations. Their place was taken by 28 East African Brigade which continued to cover the concentration and screen the advance of the 7th Division close on their heels.
The divisions of the Fourteenth Army were now, in the second week of January, approaching—or, in the case of the 19th Division, were actually on—the Irrawaddy along a front of over two hundred miles, from Wuntho in the north to Pakokku in the south. The Japanese, as far as we knew, were still unaware of our change in plan and of the stealthy march of 4 Corps; their eyes, we
hoped, were still fixed on Mandalay, not Meiktila. The stage was set for that most dramatic of all military operations—the opposed crossing of a great river.
* 286 had been temporarily operating under 4 Corps since 11th November and now reverted ‘in situ’ to 33 corps on 19th December (see p. 394).
CHAPTER XVIII
CROSSING THE IRRAWADDY
THE Irrawaddy, which the Fourteenth Armynowapproached, is one of the world’s great rivers. It runs through Burma for thirteen hundred miles, a thousand of them navigable from the sea by sizable steamers. From time immemorial it has been the main highway of Burma; trade and war have followed its course. The waters of the Irrawaddy rise with the rains from March to September, when they are at their highest, and then subside again, while the river’s current, like its width, varies with the season, from one and a half miles an hour to five or six. Thus, in January, the water was low and the current at its slowest.
Nevertheless, as an obstacle the Irrawaddy was most formidable. In the northern part of the Fourteenth Army area, where it confronted the 19th Division, it ran, first through forest and then for twenty-five miles between low hills, which narrowed it to some five hundred yards. As the country flattened out, the river widened to an average of two thousand yards, with a maximum of well over four thousand at its junction with the Chindwin. In the narrower parts the banks shelved steeply; in the broader stretches, through flat, arid country, they were low and the stream was frequently divided and obstructed by islands and sandbanks, which changed position with every flood. In many places, as the water had fallen, it had left behind broad stretches of soft sand into which vehicles sank axle deep, thus limiting the approaches to the river. Navigation was always difficult, especially when, as now, the water was low, and the selection of a crossing place could only be made after detailed reconnaissance.
By the 9th January, patrols of the 19th Division of 33 Corps had reached the Irrawaddy about Thabeikkyin, and found the enemy on both sides of the river. This energetic division at once began vigorously to clear the west bank, meeting with considerable opposition. The 2nd British Division was in the Shwebo area, moving south, while the 20th Division was sweeping down on Monywa. 4 Corps had begun its long march to Pakokku, and the Lushai Brigade was about to attack Gangaw to clear the way, while the head of the 7th Division was stealthily closing up behind it. The 17th Division had returned to Imphal from India, and was re-equipping on the new mechanized and airborne establishment; the 5th Division, completing the same reorganization, had recently moved to Jorhat and was in Army Reserve. The advance of the Fourteenth Army was going well.
On Fourteenth Army’s left flank the N.C.A.C. was pushing south, on the east of the Irrawaddy, in a three-pronged drive against weakening opposition. Sultan had in December lost his 14th and 22nd Chinese Divisions, as these had been flown out to China in answer to urgent appeals for help. Stilwell’s forecast had come true; the Japanese army was advancing, and already some American airfields had been overrun and more were threatened. In spite of this reduction in his forces Sultan continued his three advances. On his right the 36th British Division, under Festing, after making contact with our 19th Division, had on the 20th December, crossed to the east of the river at Katha and pushed south in two columns. The right column followed the river bank and was now about forty miles north of Thabeikkyin; the left, moving roughly parallel up the Shweli River Valley was some thirty miles to the east. Sultan’s second prong, the 50th Chinese Division, was a little ahead of this and a further thirty miles to the east. His third prong, the 30th and 38th Chinese Divisions, having captured Bhamo in mid-December, was about to make contact with the Chinese Yunnan Force at Wanting, one hundred and twenty miles east of Katha.
To meet this menacing and broad-fronted Allied advance from the north and west, Kimura was regrouping his forces. Gradually, by piecing together intelligence from all sources, we located his divisions—with reasonable accuracy, as it proved. Honda’s Thirty-third Army, consisting of the 18th and 56th Divisions, the latter temporarily reinforced by a regiment from the 49th Division and another from the 2nd Division, was south of Bhamo opposing the Yunnan Chinese and the Chinese divisions in the two eastern prongs of Sultan’s advance. Katamura’s Fifteenth Army, made up of the 15th, 53rd, 31st, and 33rd Divisions, was along the line of the Irrawaddy in that order from north to south. The bulk of the 53rd Division, which during December had opposed the 36th British Division in the Railway Corridor, had, our intelligence believed, been withdrawn to the Mandalay area. Identifications of Japanese dead showed that it had been replaced by detachments of the 18th and 56th Divisions, drawn from the formations opposite the Chinese. On the Fourteenth Army front, the 15th and 53rd Japanese Divisions, widely spread, faced the threat of our 19th Division; the 31st garrisoned the Sagaing Hills and the Irrawaddy line to the west, while the 33rd Japanese Division covered Monywa and the Gangaw Valley. In Arakan and South Burma the enemy had his 54th and 55th Divisions. Somewhere behind his front, we calculated, were the rest of his 2nd and 49th Divisions, a couple of strong independent brigades, and the surviving I.N.A. formations, some of which we suspected were on the river bank well west of Mandalay.
The enemy knew we were about to attempt crossings, and, realizing that it was impossible to hold two hundred miles of river line continuously and effectively in strength, he did not attempt to do so. Instead, he wisely concentrated his defences at the most likely crossing places, watched the intervening spaces, and held his reserves, especially artillery and tanks, mobile and well back, until our intentions were clearer. He left certain detachments on our side of the river in the Sagaing Hills and around Kabwet, some sixty miles north of Mandalay, to impede our advance, to give him observation, and if necessary to form sally ports across the river. He also organized small suicide penetration units to raid on our bank, and, by interfering with our preparations, to delay and confuse us. Generally speaking, Kimura’s dispositions to meet our assault from the north were suitable, and after his tour of inspection, he probably felt that, while he might not be able to stop us crossing in some places, he should be able to destroy such forces as did manage to get over. His shortage of air support and reconnaissance was, of course, a great handicap, and must have worried him a great deal, but he made arrangements to use what he had more freely and more boldly.
If Kimura was not without anxieties, I certainly had mine. One of the greatest was shortage of equipment. I do not think any modem army has ever attempted the opposed crossing of a great river with so little. We had few power craft, and those we had were small, old, and often damaged by the long journey over execrable roads. Our handful of military boats and rafting stores had seen months, even years, of hard use and rough handling. All our equipment was very much ‘part worn’. We were especially weak in outboard engines, on which we should have to rely to a great extent; most, even of those available, were underpowered for their tasks and almost all were unreliable. We tried to eke out our own equipment with a number of captured pontoons, but these were of poor type and really suitable only for bridging. Burmese country boats, of which we obtained a few, were good cargo carriers, but, to the uninitiated, extremely awkward to navigate. We strained every nerve to produce more amphibious equipment, but it was simply not there. My headquarters found all the equipment, technical units and help it possibly could, but, strive as we would, I could not provide my corps commanders with more than a fraction of what I should have liked or of what they might reasonably demand. Apart from its deplorable quality, I could not give them equipment enough to allow of more than one division at a time crossing in each corps, and, even for that one division, far too many trips would be required, the boats and rafts having to ferry back and forth many times. I was, as I said at the time, asking them to cross on ‘a couple of bamboos and a bootlace’. They knew the risks quite as well as I did, but neither they nor the divisional commanders made unnecessary protests. They realized no more was available; what was lacking in material they made up in inge
nuity, skill, organization, and determination. The only equipment my army had in full supply was, as ever, brains, hardihood, and courage.
There was, however, one way in which I could help them—in the air—and I appealed for a greater allotment of air power to Fourteenth Army for the forthcoming operations. Stratemeyer, the American general commanding Eastern Air Command, responded nobly. In January he placed the United States 12th Bombardment Group at the orders of Vincent’s 221 Group R.A.F., and this he followed by instructions to Major-General Davidson’s 10th U.S. Army Air Force, to the Strategic Air Force, and to 224 Group R.A.F. in Arakan, to give all support possible to Fourteenth Army on demand. This gave Vincent a really formidable strength, which, helped by closest co-operation between our staffs, he handled brilliantly throughout the whole operation.
I had already moved my headquarters to Imphal. It had been a relief to get away from Comilla at last. At Imphal, not only was the climate preferable but the whole atmosphere was better for a fighting headquarters. As neither Vincent nor I intended to stay so far back when the battle moved on, he at once began to make the headquarters of his 221 Group mobile and jungle-worthy. From that time onwards, our two headquarters lived side by side, worked and moved as one. To see Vincent’s Chief of Staff, the huge ‘Tiny’ Vass, and my stocky ‘Tubby’ Lethbridge, both stripped to the waist, working out their intricate, dovetailed programmes of day and night air reconnaissances, patrols, strafes, supply drops, bridge hustings, and bombardments, was a lesson in good temper and inter-Service co-operation. The Allied air forces ranged all over Burma as far south as Rangoon, on a plan designed almost entirely to help Fourteenth Army. Enemy fighter squadrons were driven farther and farther back, his communications harried all round the clock, his movement by day made perilous and by night delayed. Our attacks were preceded by devastating ‘earthquake’ bombardments; our bridgeheads as we clung to them screened by fire from the air. Never, I believe, was air co-operation closer, quicker or more effective; never was it more gratefully appreciated than by the Fourteenth Army and its commander.
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