Defeat Into Victory

by Field-Marshal Viscount William Slim

  However, during the night of the 19th/20th March there was extra activity in and around the Fort, and, after the morning air strike, a group of Anglo-Burmese waving white flags and Union Jacks appeared at one of the gates. The garrison, they reported, had during darkness crept through drains from the moat into the southern part of the town. Many were intercepted by our troops, others who hid in deserted houses were hunted down during the next few days, only a handful escaped into open country. Our men entering the Fort found large dumps of Japanese stores and ammunition, a number of European and Anglo-Burmese civilian prisoners, and a fair sprinkling of booby traps. Rees himself, as was proper, hoisted the Union Jack again over Fort Dufferin and revisited Government House, now sadly battered, where years before in more peaceful days he had served as Military Secretary. To our great regret, Theebaw’s Palace had been burnt down, whether fired by our shelling and bombing, although we had tried to avoid it, or by the Japanese to destroy the stores they had in it, I do not know. A day or two later, I staged a more formal ceremony at which both corps and all divisional commanders were present, when I hoisted the Union Jack over Mandalay. The capture of Mandalay had been as much the result of operations at Meiktila and elsewhere as of those around the city itself. Every one of my divisions had played its part; it was an Army victory. I thought it would be good for everyone to have that fact demonstrated.

  While these dramatic events had been taking place in Mandalay, the 19th Division had achieved another triumph of daring and mobility. As early as the 6th March, one of its brigades (62) had been pulled out of the race for Mandalay when still twenty miles north of the city, and next day struck off south-east for Maymyo, the summer capital of Burma in the hills twenty-five miles east of Mandalay. Marching for four days by smugglers’ tracks, across two mountain ranges, and through a deep valley, the brigade suddenly burst into the quiet of that lovely hill station to the utter surprise of its Japanese garrison and the numerous administrative troops located there. Some fled north in a train that, luckily for them, happened to be standing with steam up in the station, but the majority were wiped out among the pleasant bungalows and along the flower-bordered roads. An enemy convoy, trying to slip away in the night, was ambushed and yielded a gun and forty or fifty lorries which proved a valuable supplement to the pack transport of the brigade. The capture of Maymyo cut the road and railway, which were the only direct and effective lines of communication from the Japanese supply depots of Central Burma to their troops still opposing Sultan’s forces. It also did much to secure my left, which, now far ahead of his Chinese, had been something of an anxiety to me. Leaving a battalion to block any hostile move from the north-east and to collect the Japanese stragglers and vehicles that still hopefully made for Maymyo, the remainder of the brigade marched to Mandalay and rejoined their division. Since reaching the Irrawaddy, in ten weeks of hard fighting and rapid movement, the 19th Division had not only cleared the enemy out of Mandalay, Maymyo, and a large area, but had counted six thousand Japanese killed on its battlefields.

  The other Indian division of Stopford’s 33 Corps, the 20th under Gracey, had needed no urging when in turn it was launched in the general offensive. The prolonged and fierce fighting in the bridgehead, when Japanese casualties had been so heavy, had weakened the enemy and sapped his powers of resistance. Gracey’s troops pushed rapidly east, clearing village after village, and expanding their bridgehead towards that of the 2nd Division. On the 2nd March, the two divisions made contact along the river. Throughout the 3rd and 4th fighting went on, the Japanese artillery being particularly active, but their infantry were losing some of their tenacity and the bridgehead was steadily enlarged to the south-east. On the 5th March, the two bridgeheads of the 20th Division linked up. From then onwards the expansion or the bridgehead was more rapid; the enemy were obviously breaking. They had already suffered a decisive defeat on the Irrawaddy line and another about Meiktila, although at this time they still showed no signs of abandoning the attempt to retake that town. They had lost heavily in guns, much of their armour had been destroyed or captured. It was not easy in the then fluid state of the battle to be certain what Kimura’s plan was, but, as far as we could deduce, it was to halt us on a line running southwest from Kyaukse, with its bastions at Kyaukse itself, Myingyan, Taungtha, Mount Popa, Kyaukpadaung, and Chauk. The Japanese Fifteenth Army was to hold the right, the Thirty-third the centre, and the Twenty-eighth the left. Whether this was with the object of holding us off from the north, while another attempt was made to retake Meiktila, or to cover a reorganization and a general withdrawal to the south, we did not know. I hoped the former; the longer the enemy stayed in Central Burma the better chance we had to destroy him. It was plain, however, that, after the losses he had suffered, the enemy was in no condition to hold such a line; his increasing shortage of artillery alone would have made it impracticable. What was needed now to complete the Japanese confusion was to cut lanes through them, striking at their command and communication centres both by land and air, so that the already weakening grip of their commanders on the situation would be completely broken. Speed was the keynote, both to prevent the Japanese rallying and to give us time before the monsoon for the advance to Rangoon. The moment had come to strike boldly, and no one was more fitted to do it than Gracey and his men. I had never seen troops who carried their tails more vertically.

  Gracey’s plan was for two of his brigades (32 and 80) to converge on Kyaukse from the north and north-west, while the third (100) carried out a wide encircling movement, through Pyinzi to take Wundwin on the main railway sixty miles south of Mandalay. This brigade, which was spearheaded by an armoured and motorized column, had the double object of cutting off the Japanese retreating in front of the other brigades and of linking up with 4 Corps from Meiktila.

  On the 8th March, the 20th Division broke out into a rocky undulating country interspersed with villages, mango groves, and small banana plantations. The armoured column lunged first at Myotha, a communications junction fifteen miles from the river. Resistance was disorganized, but in places stubborn, and it was not until the 10th that Gyo, a village half-way to Myotha, was taken by 80 Brigade after brisk fighting, in which the enemy suffered severely and lost seven guns. Two days later this brigade fought through Myotha, south of which large hostile concentrations were reported, and some days were spent in clearing the surrounding country. On the 19th, another brigade, 100, struck south-east for twenty-five miles and seized Pyinzi, following this up by a further fifteen miles to Pindale. On the 21st March, after meeting stiff opposition, it reached Wundwin, surprising the Japanese line of communication troops there who fled, leaving over two hundred dead. Wundwin was the administrative centre of the Japanese 18th Division; here were its headquarters, depots, supply dumps, and hospitals. Its capture disrupted the divisional command and supply systems, and resistance became even more disjointed.

  From Wundwin, the armoured column struck north for thirty miles, spreading consternation among the Japanese installations on both sides of the railway. Several hundred Japanese were killed, a few light tanks destroyed, guns and mechanical transport taken, and great quantities of documents collected. Among the captures were a train full of arms and ammunition, a tank and tractors, and a complete convoy of lorries loaded with assault boats and outboard engines. In one place a small hospital was seized before the staff had time to kill the patients, and fifty-three sick and wounded prisoners were taken—the largest single bag yet obtained. On the 29th March, the brigade made touch south of Kyaukse with other troops of the division attacking the town.

  While 100 Brigade was playing such havoc with the Japanese around Wundwin, 80 and 32 Brigades struck east and south-east on Kyaukse and Myittha. They were opposed by small but tough enemy parties in every village, but on the 13th March they were half-way to the Mandalay–Rangoon railway, and on the 16th some of our columns reached it, twenty miles south of Mandalay. Next day, 32 Brigade was approaching Kyaukse, ten miles farther south. Th
is town was of the greatest importance to the Japanese, for not only was it their chief supply centre for a large part of their army, but it was the bastion behind which Kimura hoped to restore some order in his shattered units. It was easily defensible, and already considerable numbers of Japanese, fleeing from the north and west, had rallied there, so that it took several days of stubborn fighting to drive the enemy out of their positions. To the last they clung to the town itself, in the effort to save at least some of the great quantities of stores it contained, and it was not until the 30th March that it fell. When our troops reached the railway station, they found a wrecked train fully loaded with the last stores the Japanese had hoped to get away, medical equipment, photographic supplies, sewing machines, and, strangely enough, books and magazines.

  This break-out of the 20th Division was a spectacular achievement which only a magnificent division, magnificently led, could have staged after weeks of the heaviest defensive fighting. In three weeks the division had swept clear of the enemy an area forty-five miles by forty and was across the Rangoon-Mandalay railway on a fifty-mile stretch. The Japanese had left two thousand dead and fifty guns behind them. Their 15th and 31st Divisions were now little more than groups of fugitives seeking refuge in the Shan Hills to the east. It is interesting to note that the 20th Indian Division was the only formation of Fourteenth Army to have been trained since its inception for war in Burma. It had been well trained. Nor did it rest on its laurels, but in every direction continued with mobile columns to strike at any Japanese groups located, and to surprise and slaughter them.

  In all these operations, and particularly in those aimed at the disruption of the enemy command, the Allied air forces played a notable part. As soon as a Japanese divisional or army headquarters opened up, our wireless location unit, recognizing their call signs and even the mannerisms of their individual operators, quickly pin-pointed their positions. Then American and British light bombers and ground support aircraft were on them like terriers on to rats, while a motorized and armoured column often followed before the dust had settled. The life of a Japanese general and his staff in these days was not a happy one.

  The 2nd British Division, which on the 25th February had been the last to cross the Irrawaddy, at once began to extend its bridgehead. Although it did not meet the strong opposition that had faced the 19th and 20th Divisions and indeed was never seriously counter-attacked, the resistance of small Japanese parties in villages, supported by artillery, made the advance somewhat slow. By the 6th March, troops of the division were five miles south of the Irrawaddy and the bridgehead was expanding to both the east and west along the river bank. On the nth, the small town of Kyauktalon was taken by the eastern advance and two days later Myinthi, twelve miles to the south-east, was occupied. The advance east along the river bank continued and, after a stiff fight on the 17th March, Ava Fort was cleared of the enemy. Next day a Japanese detachment holding the southern end of the Ava bridge was driven out. The great bridge which we had destroyed in the 1942 Retreat was of course still down, but its northern end had already been occupied by our 268 Independent Brigade.

  On the same day, the 18th, troops of the 2nd Division met patrols of the 20th sweeping far round their southern flank. On the 20th March, Nicholson’s men occupied Amarapura, the great railway workshops seven miles south of Mandalay, now largely destroyed by our bombing and by Japanese demolition, and on the 21st made contact with patrols of the 19th Division pushing south. The casualties inflicted on the enemy in the 2nd Division s break-out had not been severe, but a great deal of booty fell into our hands including much needed engineer stores and, most valuable of all, some serviceable rolling stock.

  Although all offensive action, either by N.C.A.C. on our left or by 15 Corps on our right, had ceased and the Fourteenth Army alone faced practically the whole of the Japanese forces in Burma, our position was now, I thought, very favourable. Both banks of the Irrawaddy from Mandalay to Chauk and the main road and railway to Rangoon as far south as Wundwin were in our hands. Meiktila was firmly and finally held, the road to it from Myingyan was open, and we were steadily expanding our grasp over the surrounding country. The enemy formations, although still fighting stubbornly, had lost almost all their armour, a large proportion of their guns, and much of their transport. Everywhere they were in great and growing confusion. Kimura’s only hope, now, was to extricate himself, fall back to the south, and collect what troops he could to hold us off from Rangoon. Our best hope was to rush him off his feet before he could regain balance—and to pray for a late monsoon.

  BOOK VI

  Victory

  CHAPTER XXI

  THE RACE TO RANGOON

  IN mid-March 1945 the Battle of Central Burma was drawing to its close, yet Kimura still obstinately refused to admit defeat—an admirable trait in a commander, but one which he was in danger of carrying to excess. His divisions, especially those of Katamura’s Fifteenth Army, were in a bad way; they had lost not only guns, transport, and equipment but were now losing their cohesion. If he wished to avoid destruction, Kimura could not fight much longer anywhere north of a line from Yenang-yaung to Pyawbwe, and I did not intend he should fight long on that line. The time had come to take our next step—Rangoon.

  Our own divisions, although they had been operating strenuously and continuously for several months without rest, were still in great heart. Our casualties, despite the amount of close fighting, had not been unduly heavy, and, as far as Indian units were concerned, had been largely replaced. British reinforcements, as so often in this theatre, lagged behind casualties, and owing to their numerical weakness I had again to replace British battalions by Indian. The state of our road transport, too, caused anxiety. We had lost neither guns nor vehicles to the enemy, but much of our motor transport was on its last legs, and replacements were short. There could be no pause either in operations or in the movement of supplies by road, so that time for overhaul was scant. In spite of heroic efforts to make all possible vehicles serviceable for the next phase, we could only hope that, with forward formations largely on air supply and with an increasing use of river and railway, we should just manage to keep enough lorries running. In the event, we saved the situation only by taking all serviceable vehicles from formations going out of Burma and issuing them to those remaining.

  The state of our armour worried me even more. Our striking power, and with it our speed, would depend, beyond anything, on the armoured spearheads of our advance. Yet our Shermans, Lee-Grants, Stuarts, and armoured cars were all obsolete and mostly long overdue for replacement. They had been used hard, and it was only the skill and determination of their crews, British and Indian, backed by the devoted I.E.M.E. and I.A.O.C. men, that had kept them on the road up to now. With daily demands on our armour, opportunities for the extra maintenance so badly needed were not easy to find. I visited the tank and armoured car units to thank them for their magnificent efforts in the past battle and to impress on them how much I should rely on them for the next. I told them that, when I gave the word for the dash on Rangoon, every tank they had must be a starter, and that every tank that crossed the start line must pass the post in Rangoon. After that they could push them into the sea if they wanted! But they had to get to Rangoon!

  It would be a race, and a stern one, against two tough competitors, the enemy and the monsoon. The Japanese, in spite of the hammering we had given them, were still numerous and formidable; the shadow of the monsoon loomed over us, only seven or eight weeks away. If we did not take Rangoon before it broke, we should, with landing grounds out, even dropping hazardous, roads dissolving and health deteriorating, find ourselves in a desperate situation with the prospect of a disastrous withdrawal. It was now the middle of March; a normal monsoon would break somewhere about the 15th May. Before we could begin the drive south, we had to finish the present battle, clear the large areas to the north of Meiktila and Yenangyaung, rearrange our forces, and break the crust of any new line of Japanese resistance. We coul
d not expect to do all that before the first week of April. Then, with luck, we should have some forty days to reach—and take—Rangoon. From Meiktila, by the railway route, Rangoon is three hundred and twenty miles; from Chauk, via the Irrawaddy Valley, three hundred and seventy. We should have to move at an average of eight or ten miles a day. That, against opposition and demolitions, was fast. There would be no time to stage elaborate attacks; positions that could not be taken by quick assault would have to be by-passed. Even when they were taken, there could be no pause for thorough mopping-up, nor could we wait to deal with the very large bodies of Japanese already driven into the hills on the flanks of both routes. Inevitably large enemy masses would be left behind us. As soon as we had got Rangoon, the troops would have to turn in their tracks, come north again, and hunt them. Thinking of that, I hoped that my armoured units would not take too literally my permission to push their tanks into the sea at Rangoon.