Defeat Into Victory
Page 52
On the west bank the remainder of the South Lancashires moved down according to programme and began to embark just as the first faint light of dawn was tinting the sky. The channels to be followed had been marked behind the first flight and things had indeed gone well, but from that moment they began to go wrong. In spite of their past experience, the Lancashire men fumbled badly at the embarkation and there was a good deal of delay and confusion. Because of noise, it was not possible to start up the outboard engines until the men were in the boats, and when the time to do so eventually came several motors failed to start. Some of the boats also were found to leak badly, having been damaged in transit. More delay resulted. Eventually the commanding officer, realizing that a start must be made, ordered the boats that were ready to move off, irrespective of whether they were in their correct flights or not. The result was that the reserve company, which should have been last, found itself when daylight came in midstream ahead of the first wave. Even then, all might have been well had the boats made straight for the east bank, but the reserve company decided it would circle to take its proper place behind the others. The strong current and the wind were too much for the feeble engines and the reserve company, in confusion, began to drift downstream. The remaining boats, seeing them go and not realizing what was happening, turned to follow them. At this moment the enemy opened fire with rifles from the cliffs and with machine-guns from the water’s edge. Two company commanders and the engineer officer were quickly killed, casualties grew, and several boats, including that of the commanding officer were sunk. The guns on our bank and some of the tanks waiting to embark now opened fire, but owing to secrecy they had not registered, and at first their shooting was perforce slow. Within a short time aircraft from the cab rank were called in and under this combined cover the boats made back to our bank. The crossing, except for the isolated company, now in great danger, had failed.
Nor was this the only failure. The subsidiary crossing by 89 Brigade had met with initial disaster. The gallant patrol hidden on the east bank in Pagan had, during the night, reported that the enemy had reinforced the town and the whole of it was now occupied. The assaulting company, however, stoutheartedly decided to set out in its native craft. As they approached the far bank they came under fire and the Burmese boatmen, not unnaturally, panicked. The clumsy boats got out of control and in spite of the Sikhs’ efforts were swept downstream. At last the boatmen, urged by the sepoys, regained control and brought them back to the starting point. It would have been suicide to have tried to cross in daylight in these slow, awkward boats, and there the crossing rested.
To watch across the great river as dawn breaks over ancient Pagan is to hold one’s breath at so much beauty. Pagan, once the capital of Burma, was in all its glory at the time of the Norman Conquest; now, silent, ruined, and deserted, it is still noble—and very beautiful. Its twelve hundred temples, madder red or ghostly white, rise, some like fantastic pyramids or turreted fairy castles, others in tapering pagoda spires, from the sage green mass of trees against the changing pastel blues, reds, and golds of sunrise. As a foreground flows the still dark yet living sweep of moving water. Yet as the officers of 89 Brigade gazed disconsolately towards Pagan in the chill of early morning, they are to be forgiven if the beauty of the scene was somewhat lost to them. They had other and less pleasant things to think about: their attempt at crossing had definitely failed. Then suddenly, to their surprise, they saw a small boat bearing a white flag put off from the opposite bank. In it were two Jiffs, who, when they came ashore, said that the Japanese had marched out of Pagan and moved hurriedly up river, leaving only troops of the Indian National Army to garrison the town. Their one wish, now the Japanese were gone, was to surrender. Quickly a platoon of the Sikhs with a British officer crossed in the only available boats. True to their word, the garrison of Pagan marched out and with smiles laid down their arms. By evening most of the Sikh battalion was established in the outskirts of Pagan. This incident was, I think, the chief contribution the Indian National Army made to either side in the Burma War.
Back at the main crossing, while all this was going on at Pagan, the engineers were working feverishly to repair the returned boats for a new crossing. The South Lancashire Company on the east bank reported it was now firmly dug in and had not so far been attacked. It was, therefore, decided to make a second effort to reinforce it. The Brigadier judged it would take too long to reorganize the South Lancashires, so he ordered a Punjabi battalion to make the crossing as soon as possible. The 4/15th Punjabis, with great calmness and in excellent order, embarked on what promised to be a most hazardous enterprise. At 9.45 a.m. their leading company set out under the heaviest covering fire that could be provided by artillery and air. As the boats chugged slowly across they were hardly fired on at all; it seemed that there were still no Japanese at the actual crossing and that even those downstream, who had taken such toll of the South Lancashires as they drifted past, had withdrawn. Some of the boats grounded on sandbanks but the men waded or swam ashore. The whole company reached the beaches intact and swarmed up the cliffs. The curtain of covering fire moved ahead of them and swept their flanks. As soon as the boats were available the rest of the battalion began to cross, and throughout the afternoon heavily laden craft continued to go to and fro practically unmolested. By nightfall three battalions were over, and ferrying had stopped as the risk of losing boats in the treacherous current in the dark became too great.
33 Brigade for the night formed a small but well-defended bridgehead and stood-to, expecting savage counter-attacks. None came; only a few jitter parties prowled about the perimeter. We even succeeded in getting a patrol along the river bank to the Sikhs at Pagan. At dawn on the 15 th, the crossing was resumed with increasing tempo. All day long men, mules, tanks, guns, and stores poured across, and again no enemy opposed them. By evening, the South Lancashires and most of 89 Brigade were in the bridgehead. The Japanese, who had now collected in some strength, were driven into caves near Nyaungu where they held out desperately in a sort of catacomb. Its entrances were blown in and sealed off, the defenders left to die inside. During the day another company of the Indian National Army surrendered. By the 16th, Nyaungu village was in our hands and the main bridgehead, now about four miles by three, had joined up with the Sikhs at Pagan. We were over.
This sudden success after a shaky beginning was something of a surprise as well as a relief. It was due, first, to the fact that the enemy command was concentrating on the crossings of 33 Corps to the north and regarded all river bank activities from Pakokku southward as mere demonstrations. A captured Japanese intelligence officer later explained that they did not believe that there was more than the East African division in the area, and that it was directed down the west bank towards Yenangyaung. Even when crossings appeared to be threatened, the enemy considered they would not be in force and that if any actual attempts were made they would be at Pakokku and Chauk. They therefore pulled their troops away to meet these threats, leaving only small detachments and the Indian National Army to watch the Nyaungu sector. In fact, as the 7th Division made its crossings die enemy was hastily marching away to the north and south from the sites—a happy result brought about by Messervy’s able deception measures.
These deception measures had indeed drawn off the Japanese, as those engaged in them discovered. As 114 Brigade of the 7th Division closed in on Pakokku, the Japanese hurried in reinforcements from the river line and put up a stubborn struggle. Even after being driven out of the town, the remnants of the garrison, now convinced that a crossing was about to be attempted here, dug themselves in on an island in the river a little to die south, while other Japanese hurriedly strengthened their positions on the opposite bank. Having cleared the town and west bank, we kept the enemy pinned here by making faces at him, until he realized from the seriousness of the Nyaungu crossing that he was wasting his time.
The feint at a crossing opposite Chauk by 28 East African Brigade was so convincing that it
brought prompt and violent retaliation. The Japanese here were able to counter-attack in some strength, as they had collected a force on the west bank to meet the expected advance of a division of ours towards the Yenangyaung oilfields. The East African Brigade was driven back some miles and Messervy had to send it reinforcements of all arms to prevent a direat to the route from Pauk to Nyaungu developing. After some sharp exchanges this Japanese counter-attack was held at Letse, twenty-five miles south of the road, before any delay to the main operations could be caused.
Meanwhile, in the 7th Division bridgehead there was great activity. Patrols and air reconnaissances were pushed out in all directions to give warning of the hourly expected Japanese attacks. Yet it was not until the 17th February that the enemy acted. Several air attacks were delivered on our crossing places and the enemy troops, driven across the river out of Pakokku, marched against the left flank of 33 Brigade’s bridgehead at Nyaungu, where they were roughly handled by that brigade as it pushed outwards to gain elbow room. On the 19th February, 89 Brigade, doing the same to the south of Pagan, met troops of 72 Japanese Independent Brigade coming north from Chauk after the withdrawal of the East Africans. Realizing at last that the crossing at Pagan was in strength, but still not appreciating what was in store, the local enemy commander ordered all troops in the neighbourhood to concentrate against it, and drive the Allied forces back into the river and annihilate them. As a result, there was delivered against our bridgehead and its approaches a series of savage counter-attacks.
Messervy’s original intention had been to expand the bridgehead sufficiently to hold two divisions before the 17th Division assembled in it, but he shared my anxiety that the blow at Meiktila should not be delayed. He therefore decided to pass over the 17th Division before the bridgehead was large enough to receive it, and to let it collect outside. During the 16th and 17th February, the 17th Division, less the brigade left at Palel, moved by night into the vicinity of the crossing and between the 18th and 21st was ferried over to its assembly areas on the east bank. As soon as any of its units were across, the division began to push out patrols, which had some skirmishes, but as far as could be ascertained the Japanese had no idea that a fresh division was now in the bridgehead.
To turn north again for a moment to 33 Corps. The 20th Division crossing, which was a direct threat to Mandalay, had, as I hoped, attracted Kimura’s attention from our activities about Pagan, but I could not expect to conceal much longer our strength there. I was increasingly anxious, therefore, to push the 2nd Division over the Irrawaddy, still nearer to Mandalay, just as Kimura must begin to realize the threat to Meiktila, and thus make him hesitate to detach troops from the Mandalay front for the new battle. It was not easy to stage the 2nd Division crossing in time for this, as the equipment for it had to be collected from that used by the other divisions, a process not helped by the fact that much of it had been damaged, and a considerable portion of it had to be left with them as ferries at the crossings already made. However, Stopford and Nicholson, commanding the 2nd Division, were prepared to attempt the crossing on the 24th February, a date which suited my plans admirably.
Although the enemy must have been expecting an attempt at crossing by our 2nd Division, they had used so many of their troops in the attacks on 20th Division bridgehead and to hold the Sagaing Hills on the north bank, that for the fifteen miles of river to the west of Sagaing they had only a regiment, which could do little more than watch and patrol, with detachments at the most likely crossing places. They had, however, in several places prepared strong defensive positions and they obviously hoped, as soon as our intentions were evident, to occupy these with such reserves as they could muster. A good deal of patrol activity went on as both sides pushed scouting parties across the river and the 2nd Division nibbled into the Sagaing defences. On the 21st February Stopford, in order to allow the division to concentrate for its crossing, sent 268 Brigade to take over the Sagaing sector of its front. By constant pressure this brigade occupied the Japanese garrison, which could have been much better employed if it could have withdrawn to the southern bank.
On the moonlit night of the 24th/25th February, the 2nd British Division began its crossing at the village of Ngazun, about ten miles east of 20th Division’s bridgehead. The leading battalion of 6 Brigade pushed off on the fifteen-hundred-yard crossing at 2200 hours; but the enemy were alert, and opened heavy machine-gun and mortar fire. Although our casualties were not heavy, many assault boats were holed, others damaged, and some sunk. Of the first battalion, a portion reached an island in midstream and dug in there under fire. A second battalion came under heavy fire in its boats and was forced to return to the north bank. A third battalion whose boats had been pushed somewhat downstream by the current, succeeded, less a company, in gaining the opposite bank and establishing itself precariously there. The crossing, if not a failure, was near to becoming one. Nicholson and his staff rose to the occasion. In spite of the inevitable confusion on the beaches, they reorganized the scattered 6 Brigade, brought up fresh troops, and during the 25th, under cover of smoke from all available guns of 33 Corps, disregarding heavy enemy fire, passed a battalion over the river and also completed the battalion on the island. By the morning of the 26th February, 5 and 6 Brigades were all on the south bank with some tanks. The recovery, after the initial set-back, was a fine feat of leadership and organization.
After his first resistance on the beaches, the enemy was strangely passive at this beachhead. Unlike his reaction at the others he delivered little in the way of counter-attacks, interfering with our build-up only by shelling and minor air action. Kimura was in fact pausing to regroup for a final effort on the Irrawaddy shore. He did not know it, but the real storm had not yet broken on him.
CHAPTER XIX
THE VITAL THRUST
AS the last week of February 1945 began, Kimura could—and did—contemplate the Burma scene, if not with confidence, at least with hope. On his Central front, which he recognized as the decisive one, the picture he saw was that both corps of our Fourteenth Army were in the Chindwin–Irrawaddy loop; 4 Corps on our left, with a bridgehead forty-five miles north of Mandalay, and 33 Corps with a foothold over the river thirty-five miles west of the city. Both these bridgeheads he had so far managed to contain; they were isolated and their build-up should be slow. A third division of ours had just begun another crossing nearer to Mandalay, but this, too, he could hope to hold for a time. The British 36th Division, which he had expected to continue south to join our 4 Corps, had, rather surprisingly, suddenly turned east, and was at the moment fighting a desperate battle to maintain the small bridgehead it had gained over the Shweli River at Myitsun. It seemed clear that mis division was definitely committed to the American-Chinese drive on Lashio, and need not, for the present, be taken into account in the Mandalay battle.
To Kimura, the situation on his north-eastern front cannot have been reassuring. Sultan’s Chinese divisions had by now joined up with the Yunnan Chinese near Wanting, and had, in addition, cut the Wanting–Lashio road some fifty miles north of Lashio. Still, the Japanese 56th Division and other troops had successfully extricated themselves and were falling back south in good order. They could be relied on to slow up the Allied advance long enough to let Kimura fight the decisive battle. In Arakan, too, things had not gone well with the Japanese. There, their 54th Division had been roughly handled by our 15 Corps, and the latest British landing on the coast at Ru-ywa threatened to cut his Arakan forces in two. However, Arakan was not a vital front, and as long as the two passes, An and Taungup, between the coast and Central Burma were held, the British forces in Arakan, large as they were, could do little real damage. The threat of a seaborne invasion, that had for so long hung over Japanese heads, did not appear to Kimura imminent. To weaken forces held to meet it was a risk, but a risk that he could take.
There remained to be considered the British crossing of the Irrawaddy at Pagan. Kimura, thanks to our deception measures and the failure o
f his air reconnaissance, still assumed that we had in this area little more than one division, of which the bulk was on the west bank, pinned down by his troops at Pakokku and opposite Chauk. It followed that the Pagan crossing could not be in force. He was, in fact, satisfied that all our operations in that area were merely a demonstration against the oilfields to distract his attention from the main attack by our two corps on Mandalay. His formations already in the Pakokku–Chauk sector could, he felt, deal with this division, at least until he fought his main battle.
Mandalay, Kimura realized, was the decisive sector. His object must be to collect here the greatest force he could, as quickly as he could, and hurl it against the Fourteenth Army while it was split by the Irrawaddy and its divisions on his bank of the river were isolated. If he could defeat the Fourteenth Army, the loss of Lashio and Arakan would be a trifle and only temporary at that.
The situation, if it were to be retrieved, called for drastic measures. He took them. At one stroke he decided to withdraw the bulk of his forces on all other sectors of the Burma front and to bring them against the Fourteenth Army in the Mandalay area. Everything must give way to the Battle of the Irrawaddy Shore. It was a sound and soldierly decision. From Thirty-third Army, which held his northern front against N.C.A.C., he withdrew the bulk of his 18th Division and one regiment of his 49th Division, leaving only the 56th Division to face Sultan’s three Chinese divisions, the Mars Brigade, and the mass of the Yunnan Chinese, while one regiment of the 18th Division delayed the 36th British Division. From Arakan, the Japanese 54th Division, dropping rearguards on the two passes, was to march with all speed eastwards and concentrate north of Yenangyaung. From Southern Burma were ordered to Mandalay the remainder of the 49th and one regiment of the 55th Division. A regiment of the 2nd Division was on its way to Siam; it was turned back at Pegu and hurried to Central Burma. The arrival of these formations, added to the four and two-thirds Japanese divisions already opposing Fourteenth Army, would give Kimura a force the equivalent of eight Japanese and one and a third Indian National Army divisions. Some of the Japanese divisions were battered and below strength and the I.N.A. formations of little fighting value, but even so these nine divisions, against the estimated British five, straddled across the river, should be enough. The Battle of the Irrawaddy Shore could yet be won!