I Remember ..... Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Facing the Japs

After our five days isolation in the jungle, we trekked back to camp, shortly after returning back to Deolali. In the meantime, the Devonshire Regiment had sustained somewhat heavy casualities at Imphal on the border of India with Burma, so instead of joining the Chindits, I was off to the 1st Battalion. We left Deolali by a troop steam train across the centre of India to Calcutta, a long, uncomfortable journey of about a week. We stopped frequently enroute, only to be surrounded by poorly clad children, begging for food. 'Buckshees Sahib' they called. There were fruit, leather goods and buns available from itinerant individuals. At some of the station stops, members of the Salvation Army served tea (a substance from India always welcomed). The origin of water was always suspicious in India and if boiled became a little more palatable and free of germs but not always the case! We used chloride tablets and after about 20 minutes, it could be drunk, but in the heat of India, with ‘your tongue hanging out’, that was difficult. Many did not wait, often resulting in an illness called dysentery! Eventually, we arrived at Calcutta and on to Comilla in East Pakistan to the 20th Reinforcement Camp. We ambled out of our bashers each morning for parade, numbers checked and back again to the bashers. The officer-in-charge appeared the worse for wear owing to drink or drugs. When he did appear rather slovenly, he told us to push off out of his sight.

Here we experienced the eastern monsoon. It continued raining and the rice fields were flooded. Again, we experienced thousands of mosquitoes, lizards and other tormenting insects. At night, there was the constant croaking of frogs, like a pack of dogs. (The majority of edible frogs eaten in restaurants come from this area; a delicacy!) We had a few days rest and then on board an old-fashioned paddle steamer, up the river. We chugged along at night at a leisurely speed, and later embarked, to an airfield and flew into a runway near Imphal. It is here and the northern village or outpost of Kohima, that the Japanese had crossed into India but had been repelled by the 14th Army, (including the 1st Battalion of the Devonshire Regiment, forming part of the 20th Indian Division) and withdrew towards the Chindwin River. Not many of us were aware of the members of the Indian National Army who were fraternizing with the Japanese but remnants of the Army were anxious to get back into India.

To the north of us was Cherrapunji, reckoned to be the wettest place in the world, receiving on average 480 inches per year, mostly during the monsoon season. Dartmoor only gets just over 40 inches! You can imagine walking about soaked and steaming during the day, with mud up to your eyebrows, a glorious mess, and at night, cold and trying to get some sleep without any light - still holding out against the Japs. Some of the fiercest fighting and in the worst conditions in the Second World War took place here at Imphal and Kohima. We lost half a company of men, about 75 in one attack! The Japanese were making a determined effort but their lines of communication were hundreds of miles long, likewise, we were a long way from home — 7000 miles! Our line held and eventually, we pushed the Japs back.
We followed and only the good Lord knows where we went, simply thrusting through the jungle, mile after mile and out again to rest at Palel. The battles of Imphal and Kohima had marked the turning point in the war for us in the Far East!

Let us not forget other members of our Commonwealth and Empire engaged in this conflict, including West Africans (with tribal markings on their faces), Naga headhunters (Burmese), East Africans, Indians, Karens, Australians and of course, the Gurkhas, Punjabs, Sikhs, Rajputs, etc. Then there were the Chinese and the Americans in the north. I joined 'C' Company 8 Platoon and the Battalion reformed on the plain, to the south of Imphal. We were in tents and actually had charpoys (beds). We had a company of mules, stubborn and cantankerous creatures who kicked out at the first opportunity but on our advance later, they proved invaluable, carrying our extras, like ammunition, bombs, bed rolls and ground sheets. We actually had mule races. The first race resulted in the participants going straight on, instead of going round the track! It seems strange to have mules but mechanised vehicles could not operate in the jungle; such was our transport! Likewise, our armour was the Lee Enfield Rifle, left over from the First World War and the Bren Gun (a machine gun). They introduced us to the Sten gun, which fired continuous rounds but the metal butt became easily detached. I preferred the rifle.

We travelled down to Palel Airstrip for an Ensa concert one evening. I remember Girt and Daisy and Vera Lynn taking part. It was a good evening. We were allowed a green airmail letter a month. This was supposedly not censored, also a supply of airmail sheets, printing the address and the message beneath. These were censored by our officer. The sheet was about a foolscap size and photographed to about 6" and sent home. I used some as Christmas cards, drawing the likes of elephants and water buffaloes. Due to our various moves, mail eventually caught up with us, dropped with our supplies and on several occasions, only took four days from England. Many of the Platoon had received some sort of trouble at home; not good for morale but could not do much about it. My family and relatives kept in constant contact, which was reassuring and I helped others to write letters.

At Palel, we were visited by Lord Louis Mountbatten and General Bill Slim of the 14th Army. The former promised us more help from our country, as by this time most of the supplies and weapons were going to the Continent against Germany. We were ill- equipped. It was the intention to drive the Japs from Burma, back down towards the Malay Peninsular and we were going in again.

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