India's War
Page 36
Meanwhile, news came of the serious reverses suffered by the Japanese navy in the battles of Midway and the Coral Sea. This considerably diminished the prospect of a Japanese seaborne invasion of the east coast of India or Ceylon. The Japanese threat to India was likely to be confined to the Assam frontier, Arakan and the east Bengal coast. Churchill replied to Wavell that the proposed operations were ‘very nice and useful nibbling’, but his real interest lay in the recapture of Rangoon and Moulmein, followed by an advance on Bangkok. Following their recent losses, the Japanese navy would be cautious; so Wavell should plan to strike across the Bay of Bengal into southern Burma and thence Malaya. Wavell accordingly instructed his commanders and staff to undertake detailed planning for the limited operations in north Burma and to consider the question of launching a major offensive with Rangoon as its objective. The latter was given the code name ‘Anakim’.21
Wavell had initially hoped to start the offensive in early October 1942. But the outbreak of the Quit India revolt necessitated the diversion of troops for internal security. More importantly, as planning proceeded apace, Wavell and his subordinate commanders realized that the administrative and logistical challenges were daunting. The monsoon heavily hindered efforts at road and rail construction. Malaria laid low large numbers of troops, and equipment and aircraft destined for India were diverted to the more urgent battlefields of Egypt. In consequence, the planned advance on north Burma was put off for at least six months. The major operation, Operation Anakim, was postponed by a year. Wavell, however, was keen to regain the initiative and so decided to embark on a more limited offensive on the Arakan.
Nevertheless, when in mid-October Stilwell proposed an offensive on Burma with Chinese support, Wavell agreed. Stilwell’s plan also envisaged simultaneous naval operations, with a strong Anglo-American fleet to take control of the Bay of Bengal and enable landings on Rangoon. Chiang Kai-shek had insisted that this was essential to support land operations in northern Burma. Wavell disagreed with the naval component of the plan, pointing out that the six to eight aircraft carriers and numerous submarines needed were nowhere in sight. Yet there was enough common ground to get down to planning. It was agreed that the Chinese forces would advance from Ledo to the Hukawng Valley in north Burma and open the backdoor to Rangoon. Preliminary logistical details for Operation Anakim were also sketched out. Stilwell secured Chiang’s tentative agreement to these plans on 3 November: the Generalissimo insisted that Britain should have the upper hand in the air and on sea. Wavell felt, however, that the necessary preparations – training of troops, dumping of supplies, achieving air and naval superiority – could not be completed by the proposed date of 1 March 1943. His staff also carped to the Americans about Chiang’s conditional agreement.22
In early December, Roosevelt approved of Operation Anakim and directed that the requisite resources be placed at Stilwell’s disposal. But Wavell’s doubts about the enterprise were deepening. A major offensive on Burma in spring 1943 was out of the question. Even limited operations in north Burma could not be undertaken then. The problem was not getting troops into the area but maintaining them there during the monsoon of 1943. As Wavell put it to the chiefs of staff, ‘I am determined not to get troops into position of last May when we had to withdraw through inability to maintain ourselves.’ The chiefs backed Wavell, insisting that Burma was a British theatre of war and India was operationally responsible.23 Stilwell was livid at India’s dragging of its feet: ‘Peanut and I are on a raft, with one sandwich between us, and the rescue ship is heading away from the scene.’24
On 7 December 1942, Wavell formally told Stilwell that Anakim would have to wait until the autumn or winter of 1943. Operations in upper Burma in the spring of 1943 would also be premature.25 In subsequent meetings, Wavell elaborated on the enormous logistical and operational challenges and requested Stilwell to convey his views to Chiang. Stilwell could barely conceal his rage.
‘Are you satisfied that this operation is not feasible?’ asked Wavell.
‘Yes, I am,’ replied Stilwell.
‘Are you satisfied on purely military grounds?’ persisted Wavell.
‘Yes, I am,’ nodded Stilwell.
‘What will you say to Chiang Kai-shek?’ asked Wavell.
‘I shall tell him the bloody British won’t fight.’26
On 28 December, Chiang cabled Roosevelt that the British had reneged on their promises. Not only were they unable to assure naval superiority in the Bay of Bengal, but they had earmarked only three divisions for the Burma offensive. Roosevelt sent a strong reply in the new year, insisting that opening the Burma Road by operations in the north was more important than capturing all of Burma. The Americans also leaned on the British: ‘Means must be found to give the Generalissimo the necessary assurance that will enable the attack to jump off.’ The British emphatically responded that there could be no fleet operations in the Bay of Bengal, owing to the lack of destroyers to escort the battleships of the Eastern Fleet. Chiang, for his part, wrote to Roosevelt that unless naval operations were undertaken, the Japanese would ‘concentrate rapidly against our armies in the North’ and imperil them. Without the naval operation, the best course would be to put off any offensive into Burma.27
Plans for Burma were picked up in mid-January 1943 at the Anglo-American conference in Casablanca. The conference was convened to arrive at definite decisions on grand strategy for the year. American and British joint planners submitted separate plans for Burma. The Americans emphatically called for Operation Anakim, ‘with a view to keeping China in the war, keeping pressure on the Japanese in this area’. The British felt that the operations ‘certainly required in 1943’ were recapturing Akyab, establishing bridgeheads in the Chindwin Valley, and covering the construction of a road from Ledo via Myitkyina to Lungling in Yunnan. While plans for Anakim should be made for the winter of 1943–44, they were not sure if the requisite naval and amphibious forces could be found. Diversion of these to Anakim ‘cannot but react adversely on the early defeat of Germany’.28
The Americans felt that the British were exaggerating the problem of resources. General Marshall came down heavily on them: ‘unless Operation ANAKIM could be undertaken, he [Marshall] felt that a situation might arise in the Pacific at any time that would necessitate the United States regretfully withdrawing from the commitments in the European theatre’. The carrot accompanying the stick was an American commitment to make up any deficiency in landing craft and naval forces. It was eventually agreed that all plans and preparations should be made to mount Anakim by 15 November 1943, though the actual decision to attack would be taken in the summer of 1943.29
In the wake of Casablanca, a high-powered Anglo-American military delegation was sent to secure Chiang’s assent for Anakim. En route, the delegation stopped in Delhi to sort out the details of Anakim as well as other operations before the monsoon set in. Stilwell reported that his plans for concentrating twenty-six Chinese divisions in Yunnan by March were well behind schedule. In consequence, no sizeable operations could be conducted in north Burma until after the monsoon. Wavell, too, expressed his inability to carry out anything serious before then. Everyone agreed that large-scale naval operations were impossible before the end of the year. It was decided, therefore, that the whole of Burma should be occupied in one campaigning season, from 1 November 1943 to 15 May 1944. In the meantime, logistical preparations should proceed apace and minor operations, including the capture of Akyab, should be attempted. The delegation then left for Chongqing, where they managed to get Chiang’s formal acceptance for Operation Anakim – on the understanding that adequate naval forces would be available for operations in the Bay of Bengal and that the American airlift to, and aircraft for, China would be increased.
Although Wavell had swallowed the idea of Anakim, he strained at the requirements of the plan. The Americans in the delegation thought that his outline plan really consisted of ‘several pages of well written paragraphs, telling why the missio
n could not be accomplished’.30 No sooner had Chiang come on board than Wavell’s qualms about Anakim deepened. Detailed studies by his staff suggested that the naval dimensions of the operation would be far more onerous than they had assumed. Even with a number of Allied aircraft carriers, the Japanese land-based air force would be able to inflict substantial damage on an expeditionary force. In mid-February 1943, Wavell wrote to the chiefs that Anakim was a gamble involving great risks and difficulties. While continuing to plan for it, they should recognize that Japanese strength and counter-preparations in Burma might make the operation too hazardous.
Wavell now felt that it might be altogether better to avoid a major offensive on Burma. For one thing, the Allies could not hope to surprise the Japanese by an attack there: ‘this is an obvious move and must be expected by the enemy’. For another, they could ‘only progress very slowly and at considerable cost’. Instead, Wavell felt that they should undertake an offensive to capture the Sunda Straits between Sumatra and Java. This would catch the Japanese off-guard and threaten their control of Singapore and the Dutch East Indies. Such an operation, he argued, would be ‘no more formidable than the capture of Burma’. The problem, of course, was in reneging on the plan agreed with the Chinese:
it will be necessary to conceal our intentions from the Chinese who are naturally anxious to see the reconquest of Burma … we can continue preparations and discussions with the Chinese on an offensive into Burma … We shall in fact make a limited offensive into Upper Burma, with the object of confirming the Japanese of our intentions to attack in Burma.31
Anakim, in short, should be abandoned. Wavell, however, reckoned without the resources for this ambitious new plan – as well as without the providers of these resources, the Americans. His willingness to drop the idea of retaking Burma did not, however, stem solely from the difficulties of Anakim. It was also influenced by the unfolding debacle in Arakan.
The advance on the Arakan was originally envisioned by Wavell as part of a two-pronged offensive. Alongside the occupation of Kalewa and Sittaung, he aimed at retaking upper Arakan and capturing Akyab. Akyab was not only one of two serviceable ports in the eastern Bay of Bengal – Chittagong was the other – but was important as an airbase to strike into Rangoon. In September 1942, Wavell set afoot preparations for a seaborne expedition in early December to wrest control of Akyab. By mid-November, however, it became clear that the amphibious offensive was stillborn: neither shipping nor troops, nor yet the necessary aircraft, were made available. Wavell was forced to modify his plans. He decided to advance by land from Chittagong down the Arakan coast and secure the Mayu Peninsula, whence an attack on Akyab could be launched at a manageable distance. He knew that such an advance could not surprise the enemy, but hoped that if it proceeded speedily the Japanese would find it difficult to reinforce Akyab in time.32
In planning the operation, however, Wavell grossly underestimated the Japanese. This was partly because of his conviction that the Japanese had overstretched themselves in occupying Burma. Philip Mason, secretary of the chiefs of staff committee in Delhi, found Wavell gazing at a map of Burma on a sultry evening in June 1942. ‘Think how stretched they must be,’ said Wavell. ‘This is the moment to hit the Japs if only we could! If I had one division in India fit to fight I’d go for them now!’33 When his planning staff pointed out the logistical difficulties of an early attack on Burma, Wavell told them off for having ‘considered our own difficulties almost exclusively and not those of the enemy’, and proceeded to issue planning instructions himself.34 In mid-September, Wavell told his staff that he had ‘a hunch … that we may find Japanese opposition very much lower than we expect in Burma if we can only act with boldness and determination … The Jap has never fought defensively and may not be much good at it.’ He claimed to have had ‘a similar hunch before the Sidi Barrani operations two years ago … My hunch came off then.’35 This was a curious comparison. Sidi Barrani had been the opening engagement with the Italians in North Africa. In Burma, by contrast, the Japanese had booted out the British-Indian forces barely months ago – as they had elsewhere in South-East Asia. Moreover, when the tide had turned against him in North Africa, Wavell had been rather circumspect in taking on Rommel’s Afrika Korps. His assessment of the Japanese evidently had racial undertones as well.
The magnitude of Wavell’s underestimation of the Japanese becomes clearer when we look at the condition of the Indian army. As early as mid-January 1942, the director of staff duties at GHQ India candidly wrote: ‘The fighting value of Indian troops … has fallen very, very far below the standard of Sidi Barrani and Keren.’ Wavell himself admitted to Churchill that his troops had to be trained anew in jungle warfare. Later that summer, he also wrote to all commanding officers that the fighting power of the Indian army could be revived ‘only by real hard intensive training such as we have not yet undertaken’.36 To be sure, some disparate efforts were made to pass on the ‘lessons’ of Malaya and Burma to units in India. A new edition of the training pamphlet Jungle Warfare was circulated in early September. Tactical courses for fighting in the jungle were belatedly placed on the curricula of regimental training centres and officer training schools. Some formations, like the 17th, 20th and 23rd Indian Divisions, began seriously considering the problems of jungle warfare. Yet across the Indian army progress was patchy, to put it mildly.37 In any case, the Arakan offensive began before these ideas could gain traction among the troops.
Troops stationed in eastern India were also laid low by a malaria outbreak in the autumn of 1942 – the worst in years. Both combat and logistical units faced considerable attrition due to disease. Several units reported 75–100 per cent of troops as sick with malaria. Over 20,000 sick soldiers had to be evacuated from the Eastern Army owing to lack of hospital beds. These losses further diluted the capabilities of the Indian army during the offensive on Arakan.38
The Eastern Army commander, Lieutenant General Noel Irwin, had one division, the 14th Indian, with which to advance overland and take all of the Mayu Peninsula. On reaching Foul Point, his forces would assault Akyab across the channel. Noel unwisely chose to keep the 15th Corps commander, General Slim, out of the operational picture. This was problematic, not least because the divisional commander, Major General Wilfrid Lloyd, eventually ended up with nine brigades – thrice the size of a normal division and closer to that of a corps.
The advance on Arakan began on 21 September 1942. Only by early December was Lloyd ready to strike at the Japanese outposts stretching from Maungdaw to Buthidaung. By the end of the month, both these places were under his control – the two Japanese battalions having withdrawn before the attack went in. An advance group from the 47th Indian Infantry Brigade occupied the village of Indin and a patrol reached the objective of Foul Point. And there Lloyd paused and waited for his administrative tail to catch up.
The 14th Division’s sauntering advance and leisurely halt allowed the Japanese to reinforce their defensive positions in Donbaik and Rathedaung, and so neutralize the numerical superiority enjoyed by the Indian forces. At Donbaik, the Japanese laid down on a carefully chosen terrain a well-constructed, mutually supporting and brilliantly camouflaged complex of bunkers. Here, for fifty days, they staved off attack after massed attack, inflicting heavy casualties on the battalions of the 14th Division. The Indian units repeatedly attempted costly frontal assaults: the notions of outflanking, infiltration and encirclement remained beyond their tactical and operational horizons. Tanks were used in a piecemeal fashion without the faintest attempt at all-arms attacks. The situation was much the same in Rathedaung. None of this was surprising, given that the Indian army was hardly trained to fight this way.
In early February 1943, over four months into the campaign, Irwin asked Wavell ‘to what extent we would be advised to continue to incur casualties if you are prepared to accept the unpalatable conclusion … that “AKYAB” is too remote for this spring season’. Lloyd, in turn, informed Irwin that he wished to go on
the defensive. Wavell, however, insisted on dealing ‘a strong blow on the Mayu Peninsula’. ‘I should like to finish up this campaigning season’, he told Irwin, ‘with a real success which will show both our own troops and the Jap that we can and mean to be top dog.’39 Irwin blamed his subordinate commanders but proved incapable of shaping the battle. The bloody stalemate was demoralizing the troops. And fresh reinforcements proved too raw and untrained to take on the tenacious Japanese.
On 7 March, the Japanese launched their counter-offensive. Their use of infiltration on a wide front and the establishment of roadblocks to prevent a retreat should have been familiar to the Indian forces – but were not. The result was a replay in miniature of the fiascos in Malaya and Burma. Towards the end of the month, Lloyd ordered one of his brigades to withdraw in order to avoid encirclement. This was contrary to orders from Wavell, so Lloyd was sacked and replaced by Major General Cyril Lomax. The new divisional commander, too, strived to impose order on the fast deteriorating situation. Eventually, he pulled back his forces to defend the Maungdaw–Buthidaung road. But the division’s situation remained parlous. Morale was at an all-time low; malaria sapped the strength of the troops; and desertions became a regular occurrence.40