eBook
Available on Compatible NOOK devices, the free NOOK App and in My Digital Library.
Related collections and offers
Overview
John Randle served with the greatly respected Baluch Regiment of the former Indian Army right through the fiercely fought Burma Campaign, winning a Military Cross, yet on VJ Day he was only some sixty miles from where had started out nearly four years before.
Unlike other conventional war memoirs, this book comprises a gratifying number of self-contained stories drawn from the author’s experiences and memories. Some are long, other mere vignettes; some are moving and serious, others are light-hearted even humorous. Some cover hard-won victories and success, others defeats and reversal; some describe acts of great valor, others incidents reflecting human frailties. All however, are worth reading and give a very accurate picture of war at its bitterest, when men are drawn together and individuals are under that most demanding microscope of their fellow comrades-in-arms.
Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781783409488 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Pen & Sword Books Limited |
| Publication date: | 02/20/2019 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 176 |
| Sales rank: | 405,083 |
| File size: | 767 KB |
About the Author
Read an Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Christmas Leave – Bombay 1941
In the closing months of 1941 the principal non-military preoccupation of Charles Coubrough and myself was somehow or other to contrive to get leave to go to Bombay over Christmas, a not unusual ambition of two young men to seek the bright lights in wartime.
Throughout this period our newly formed Division, comprised entirely of newly raised wartime Indian battalions, was training in the Deccan in Central India with a view, in the New Year of 1942, to moving to the Middle East, somewhere in Palestine, Syria, Iraq or Iran, in order to relieve a more experienced division already there to go to the Western Desert. All our organization, training and transportation scales were designed for a war in open desert country. With the Japanese not yet in the war, this would be against Germans or Italians either in the Western Desert, along the southern frontier of Turkey or in Iran, if the anticipated German offensive of 1942 into Russia proved to be successful. Because of our impending departure and then later the advent of the war against Japan there was considerable doubt as to whether Lieutenant Colonel Jerry Dyer, our Commanding Officer, would allow any leave at Christmas for the twelve British officers in our battalion.
The culmination of this intensive training was a large divisional exercise in which our brigade was pitted against one of the other brigades, supervised by the divisional staff. I was just 20 and had only been commissioned three months, but such was the rate of the expansion of the Indian Army and the shortage of young officers that I had been appointed the permanent Company Commander of a company of some one hundred and twenty Punjabi Mussulmans. Although I had learnt a great deal during this training period, this was to be my first experience of command in a large exercise. In the final attack my battalion was on the left and was ordered to attack with two companies in the assault. As the most junior and inexperienced company commander, I was most surprised to be given the left forward assault role. I was even more surprised – and disconcerted – to hear that we were to form up just in front of a prominent hill, with an assault of about five or six hundred yards through tall maize on to an enemy position on a small hill on the far side. The battalion plan was somewhat stereotyped (two companies straight up the middle), so I had no option but to follow a similar pattern, with two platoons up, company headquarters just behind on the boundary between the two platoons, and the third platoon in reserve in rear. My left forward platoon (10 Platoon) was commanded on this occasion by the Company Havildar Major, Lal Khan, a huge Punjabi and one of the nicest men I have ever met – loyal, cheerful and willing but not over-burdened with brains. He also had the loudest and most prolonged belch of any man I have ever met, no involuntary burp, hastily stifled by a hand, but a long, deliberate, resonant belch rumbling up from his large deep-chested body. Among men who regarded a belch as a measure of appreciation, it was a sound to gladden the heart of any host or cook. He had 11 Platoon on his right and 12 Platoon in rear. As we set out from the forming-up place across the start line I was horrified to see on the hill behind me not only my Commanding Officer but the Brigade Commander and another imposing red-hatted figure who I assumed was the Divisional Commander. 2Lt Randle and B Company were certainly in the goldfish bowl with a vengeance! All went well to start with. Because of the height of the maize we could not be seen, either from the enemy position nor indeed by my seniors and betters in rear, though they could get some idea of our progress by the movement of the maize. However, after we had been going for a while I suddenly realized that there was no sign of 10 Platoon, who must have veered away to the left and lost contact. 11 Platoon was going steadily forward in the right direction. It was much too late to attempt to send a runner to get 10 Platoon back on track, so I had no alternative but to bring up 12 Platoon from reserve on to the left of 11 Platoon and continue my advance towards the objective.
I had no umpire with me, but I knew there was an umpire with the "enemy" company, who by now I could see were Sikhs from a Punjab Regiment. I was pretty certain that he would "umpire" me out, having emerged from the maize and going forward over very open ground in a frontal assault. As we cleared the maize I saw that, on the objective, the "enemy" Company Commander, who I assumed to be as young and callow as myself, had seen our frontal attack developing and in a fit of enthusiasm, not matched by tactical sense, was bringing up his reserve platoon to the forward edge of his position, so that we should be engaged by all three of his platoons as we came forward. I reckoned that I was in for a right drubbing. Then to my immense surprise, over the back of the hill, bearing down on the Sikhs who were all looking towards me, came 10 Platoon led by a triumphant Company Havildar Major Lal Khan. This naturally threw the "enemy" company into some disarray, who had to turn back to face this threat. We were then able to race forward and, just short of the objective, the umpire called a halt and awarded the battle to me. Fortunately my Colonel had not listened in to my orders and, back from the "top brass" vantage point, this fair old muddle appeared to him and to everyone else as a superb piece of tactical deception and handling. I later gathered from Captain Hugh Mercer, the Adjutant, that Jerry Dyer was warmly praised by the Divisional Commander for the skill and vigour of his battalion's attack. My platoon commanders and I alone knew the truth.
In our tented mess that evening Charles Coubrough came to me and said, "John, since it now seems that you are the CO's blue-eyed boy, don't you think it would be a good idea to put in our application for Christmas leave now, while all is well?" I, however, had been musing over the matter and was beginning to feel that perhaps it would be more honest if I went to Jerry and told him what had really happened. I discussed this with Charles and a couple of other subaltern friends. They were all adamant. "Don't be a BF, John. You're certain to make a cockup of something in the near future and so for heaven's sake build up a bit of credit in the bank!" So next morning Charles and I presented ourselves to Hugh Mercer the Adjutant with a formal application requesting Christmas leave. He took mine with a smile and said, "Making hay while the sun shines, eh John?" Charles and I duly went to Bombay on our Christmas leave and enjoyed every minute of it; in fact Hugh came with us. Lal Khan shortly got well-deserved promotion to Jemadar and went off to command a platoon in D Company, the other Punjabi Mussulman Company.
I never knew whether Colonel Jerry Dyer believed that B Company was really as well handled as it appeared or whether he realized the truth, and being a wise man kept his knowledge to himself.
Thirty-five years later I had the great pleasure of meeting the now Subedar Lal Khan when I was a guest of my old regiment at the Regimental Centre at Abbottabad in the North-West Frontier Province (of Pakistan), whither he had come specially to meet Clifford Martin, another of his Company Commanders, and me. Among a great deal of talk about the "old days", we had a huge laugh about his great "exploit" in the exercise and how I owed my Christmas leave to him. Sadly the famous belch had lost much of its splendour and timbre – sic transit gloria! Lal Khan is now dead, but I do wonder whether in Valhalla or Paradise or wherever old soldiers go, he is there, with the belch restored to the days of its prime. It would be a bit sad otherwise.
(This tale originally appeared in the Newsletter of the Indian Army Association).
A. Background EventsDecember 1941 – February 1942
The Japanese entry into the war in December 1941 changed everything. Our half-trained Division, 17th Indian, instead of going westward to Iraq or Paiforce to continue its training on L of C duties there and thus relieving 10th Indian Division for the Desert, about-faced and went east. 44th and 45th Indian Brigades were sent to Singapore, just in time to be involved in the last days of the fighting there and then go into arduous captivity. In January 1942 our 46th Indian Brigade was sent to Rangoon, together with Division HQ. Such is the innocence of youth that we felt disappointed that we were being siphoned off to a military backwater instead of being given an opportunity to fight the Japanese. It was not an attitude of mind that lasted long or that we ever had again. In December Lt Col C.J. Tomkins the CO was taken ill and so the 2IC Major C.J. (Jerry) Dyer took over command, with Major Pat Dunn as 2IC.
Soon after we docked at Rangoon the GSO1 (Training) of Burma Command came aboard and was talking to Jerry. I heard the latter ask about training areas. "Oh," said the GSO1, "you can't do much training here, its all bloody jungle!!".
In January 1942 the Japanese onslaught on Burma began. One of their expected routes of advance lay across the Salween (that large, mysterious and least known of all the great rivers of Southern Asia) and into southern Burma. After landing in Rangoon in mid-January and being deployed in the Martaban area at the mouth of the river, the battalion was ordered, in mid-February, to take over from 1st/7th Gurkhas further north on the river. Our task was to deny that route by holding the West Bank at the village of Kuzeik opposite the small township of Pa-an at a crossing point, and, by patrolling, to identify any crossings by the enemy, either to the north or to the south, so that the brigade reserve battalion could be brought up to counter-attack and drive the enemy into the river. The river was about as wide as the Rhine at Cologne and imposed a considerable barrier. To start with, my company, B Company, was deployed to hold the actual crossing; A Company (Captain Bill Cayley) and C Company (Captain Siri Kanth Korla) formed patrol bases south and north respectively of the battalion position, whilst D Company (Second Lieutenant Jake Jervis) prepared defences on the western side of our position just in case the Japanese were able to cross and attack us from the rear, before the Brigade counter-attack could be mounted.
CHAPTER 2You Just Never Know
It is generally accepted that one of the principal preoccupations of men about to go into battle for the first time is how they are likely to perform in what, rightly or wrongly, is still regarded as one of the more searching tests of a man's worth. Those in command of men, be they Army commanders, commanding tens of thousands, or the humble Section commander with his nine or ten men, are also likely to be giving thought to the likely performance of their subordinates. The more percipient of men will even ponder on how their immediate superior, in the chain of command, will react to the challenge of battle. This story concerns the second of these eternal enigmas.
The command structure of B Company comprised my company Second-in-Command, Subedar Mehr Khan, a tough, grizzled, dour man with much Frontier experience, who, though loyal, was obviously none too happy about being commanded by a boy and who could perhaps have been a little more helpful. 10 Platoon was commanded by Havildar Sabr Hussain, a sound, pleasant self-effacing but not very experienced man; 12 Platoon by Havildar Taja Khan, an interesting man. He was fairly rough and ready, perhaps of not such good stock as the others, and disfigured, as many were in those days, by pockmarks. He had a disconcerting way of hardly ever looking one in the eye, but just occasionally when perhaps it really mattered, he did. He had been a bit of a rogue as a young soldier and knew every trick in the book, but he had a very firm grip on his platoon and was, all in all, a very tough, unflappable chap. Company Headquarters was run by a newly appointed Company Havildar Major (CHM) (equivalent to a Company Sergeant Major in the British Army) Ali Haider Khan, a huge man about six foot three tall, very tough, loyal, cheerful and willing, if not very experienced. Finally there was 11 Platoon Commander Jemadar Bazar Khan, the central figure of this tale. He had been posted to me shortly after I took over command of the company (deliberately, I discovered later, as support for a raw young officer) and was the "beau ideal" of a Jemadar platoon commander, tall, lean, tough, well-educated, willing, loyal, cheerful, helpful in every aspect one could think of. He once had been an Officers' Mess Havildar and had one or two words of English. He also had just the right touch for a young officer, he would be friendly and pull one's leg, but never exceeded that boundary into familiarity. In all our training exercises he was superb – tactically sound, indefatigable, ever cheerful. He was generally regarded as the best platoon commander in the battalion and one much envied by the other rifle company commanders.
For five days things were fairly quiet – some desultory mortar fire from across the Salween and the occasional dive bombing attack, neither of which were particularly effective. The time came for a switchover with A Company, holding the patrol base some five miles to the south; D Company were to carry out a similar switch with C Company to the north. The orders for the switch were somewhat complicated to disguise the change-over from the Japanese and to maintain a continuous patrol coverage from the patrol bases. At last light, about 6 pm, I was to send off one platoon under my Company 2IC southward; on their arrival at the A Company patrol base, A Company Commander and two of his platoons would set off back to the battalion position, leaving his third platoon under the temporary command of my 2IC. Meanwhile at about the same estimated time, about 8.30 pm, I was to set out with my Company Headquarters and two other platoons; on arrival at the patrol base the third platoon of A Company would rejoin its company in the battalion position. There was one significant omission from the orders, one which I was too green to spot at the time – the laying down of separate routes for A Company's move back and my Company's move south, so that we did not run into each other in the dark. During this change-over the river front facing the Japanese was to be held by the Machine Gun Platoon. Bill Greenwood, my Company Officer, was ordered to stay behind to help A Company settle in.
All started off well. Subedar Mehr Khan and 10 Platoon went off on time, followed at 8.30 pm by me and the rest of the company, 11 Platoon under Bazar Khan leading, followed by Company Headquarters, then 12 Platoon. It was a beautiful, tropical night, full, bright moonlight giving good visibility, yet cool, and we made good progress for about three miles. The track led through secondary jungle and a belt of small holdings where Burmese grew plantains, the local banana, and bamboos; on our left, about twenty yards away, flowed the mighty Salween, while on the right there were occasional stretches of open paddy fields. The one disconcerting feature was that our passage was accompanied by the tapping of bamboo which gave off a somewhat eerie note and appeared to be a signal of some kind. We stopped twice and searched the immediate area to try and identify the source, whereupon it ceased. Suddenly there was a burst of tommy gun fire from the leading 11 Platoon section and one or two rifle shots, and a man came charging down the track, barged into me and disappeared down the way we had come. At first I thought it was one of my own men or that we had blundered into A Company, but then realized it was a Jap. Moving forward, I came across the 11 Platoon section spread across the track looking watchfully ahead. On the track searching a dead Jap for documents was Naik Amir Khan, a cheerful rascally NCO from the Mianwali area of the Punjab, who was an acknowledged expert with the tommy gun.
I ordered a continuation of our march and almost immediately we encountered more Japs in some numbers. Just off the track on the right there was an open stretch of paddy fields across which we saw clearly in the moonlight about thirty Japs and gave them some useful fire with a couple of LMGS. They did not charge, but disappeared into the night. Then away to the south we heard a tremendous fusillade of firing, intensive rifle fire and automatic weapons. This went on for several minutes and then stopped. Clearly Mehr Khan, 10 Platoon and the A Company Platoon were in close contact with the enemy (in fact, though I did not know it at the time, they were overrun by two companies of Japs and virtually wiped out). It seemed to me that there were quite a large number of Japs on our side of the Salween, far more than a mere patrol, and that I should alert Battalion Headquarters. Though we carried a radio even in those days, they were of elementary design and at night "mush" descended and any sort of communication, voice or morse, became virtually impossible and this sadly proved to be the case now. The only alternative was to fall back on the age-old messenger on foot. I wrote a brief report on a message pad and gave it to Sepoy Nasir Mohammed, the company bugler and runner, to take back the way we had come, to Battalion Headquarters. He set off, but had barely gone two hundred yards when we heard terrible screams from him and cries of "Bas, bas" (Enough, enough). Clearly the Japs had moved in behind us and were astride the track back to Battalion Headquarters.
(Continues…)
Excerpted from "Battle Tales from Burma"
by .
Copyright © 2004 John Randle.
Excerpted by permission of Pen and Sword Books Ltd.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
Table of Contents
Title Page,
Copyright Page,
Dedication,
FOREWORD,
Acknowledgements,
Preface,
INTRODUCTION,
GLOSSARY,
ILLUSTRATIONS,
Chapter One - Christmas Leave – Bombay 1941,
Chapter 2 - You Just Never Know,
Chapter 3 - Loot,
Chapter 4 - The Luck Of The Irish,
Chapter 5 - The Line,
Chapter 6 - "London",
Chapter 7 - Commanding Officer,
Chapter 8 - RED HILL,
Chapter 9 - A Very Brave Decision,
Chapter 10 - A Latter-Day Gunga Din,
Chapter 11 - That Thing (A Clash of Cultures),
Chapter 12 - POINT 900,
Chapter 13 - The Second Shot,
Chapter 14 - A Quid Pro Quo,
Chapter 15 - Zan, Zar, Zamin – (Women, Gold, Land)– A Story Of Murder,
Chapter 16 - A Sad Story,
Chapter 17 - The Girls,
Chapter 18 - An ad hoc Elephant Battery,
Chapter 19 - A Cruel Turn of Fate,
Chapter 20 - The Surrender,
Chapter 21 - All for the Want of an Army List,
Chapter 22 - Dacoits,
Chapter 23 - Full Circle,
Appendix A - Personalities,
Appendix B - A Nostalgic Visit to Pakistan and India by Two Old Baluchis,
Appendix C - Reconciliation,
Appendix D - 7th/10th Baluch Postwar,
Index,