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This story was added to the ´óÏó´«Ã½ People's War website by Helen Jubb, ´óÏó´«Ã½ Radio Leeds, on behalf of the contributor, Mrs Falkingham with her permission. She fully understands the terms and conditions.

We left by track for Madras where we boarded a train. Our carriages had wooden slated seats, no glass in the windows and a hole in the floor for you know what. This was our home for the next 10 days, as it sped north. For exercise, on many occasions, we ran alongside the train and when it stopped we would run up to the engine with our billycans for a brew of tea from the engine’s hot water. One had to be careful when eating our rations, a long hairy arm would appear through the window and grab one’s connor, (food). There sure were loads of monkeys, and insects, I woke up one morning with a big blister of my chest, the M.O. said a large so and so spider had pissed on me! After a journey of 1700 miles we arrived at the rear supply base and rest camp of Dimapar, or perhaps it was Manipar Road.

There we were fitted out with all the necessary equipment, ammunition etc. I had a Thompson sub machine gun or Tommy gun as it was better known. What we were most pleased to receive was the famous Australian type bush hat, which I still possess to this day.

The next stage was to be a 400-mile journey in 3 tonne Bedford tracks over the ‘hump.’ This was sometimes very hair-raising, the Indian army drivers, who had no doubt done the journey many times, took incredible risks on the hair- in bends with no barriers and hundreds of feet to the valley below. They took great delight showing us where one of their mates hadn’t made it! we passed through Kohima, the site of the decisive battle a few months before, then past Imphal and down to the river Chindwin, which we crossed on a Bailey Bridge.

The convoy of 1000 men and supplies, usually stopped at dusk. One particular night, when by this time we were well into Burma, it was quite dark when we stopped. It was open ground and I was feeling for a suitable place to put my ground sheet. There was a nice hollow between two humps and I was soon in the land of nod. I woke up on hearing what we all thought was gunfire in the distance but it turned out to be only thunder. This was the dry season but the monsoon could start early, in the event it was another 4 or 5 weeks until it began. When daylight came of that same night, I realised I had been sleeping between the graves, of two Japs! I hoped it would be the nearest I would ever get.

We arrived at the strategic town of Meiktila where, the previous week, the Japs had made a determined stand, it was still almost entirely surrounded, and our first task was to ‘get dug in!’ We had now joined the 17th Indian Division and 99 Brigade. At that time each brigade (3 to a Division) of the Indian army consisted of two battalions of Indian Infantry, one British and a mixed bag of supporting troops eg. Artillery, signals, tanks, engineers, supply and medical units, etc. etc. The other two infantry regiments in 99 Bde. Were the Sikh Right Infantry and the 1/3 Gurkha Rifles. Whilst preparing for the advance south to Rangoon the 14th Army Commander in Chief, General Sir William Slain, came to give us a pep talk. He was affectionately known as ‘Uncle Bill.’ I well remember him standing on his jeep and telling us, ‘I do not want you to even consider dying for your country- make that little yellow bastard die for his!’

The division stayed in Meiktila for 2 weeks and then the advance down the Rangoon Road began, we were held in reserve during the battle of Pyawbare, the only part I remember is having to inspect the Jap bunkers to see if there was any sign of life after the town had been cleared.

On the 18th April- my 20th birthday, we were ordered to defend a recently captured airstrip. I had just finished digging my foxhole, and taking a breather, when I heard tow ‘clangs’ in a jeep parked behind me. The spurts of soil from the front of my foxhole, at which stage I thought it was high time I made use of my hole in the ground. The gaps must have been at least half a mile away in the low hills the other side of the airstrip.

From now on it was a case of advancing and chasing the Japs who were in full retreat. It was another 350 miles to Rangoon and 17 Div. wanted to be the first there, as it was they who the Japs drove out of Rangoon in 1942. There is just one road and a railway down the centre of Burma with small towns and villages every 20 miles or so. The Japs put up a token resistance and one of those villages, I think it was a place called Pyinmana where the Bn. had its first casualties. These were caused by caused by trucks full of troops hitting land mines on a small track over which only two minutes previously the track I was in had passed. We de-bussed and took up positions behind a small bank at the rear of a basha in the village. Shots were being fired nearby, a Company of Sikhs had already advanced ahead of us, but obviously there were some stray Japs about. I took a look over the bank and there, only about 20 yards in front of me was a Jap poking his head out of a foxhole- aiming his rifle! However he was too slow as I got my shot in first. As we advanced, on foot, later, I went through his pockets and relieved him of some photographs and paper money, which I still have. My main memory of this time- apart from the previous paragraph- is of having to dig a foxhole every evening, grabbing rides on the backs of Sherman tanks, and being on short rations. We were advancing so quickly that the lines of supply were overstretched. Then, early one morning on the only occasion that I knew of, some Jap bombers hit the transport park and knocked out the petrol wagons. Our orders were to make a force march to the next objective, 25 miles down the road, with what water we had in our bottles and on half rations. It was a blazing hot day, the East Yorks. were in single file on one side of the road and the Gurkhas on the other side. Eventually, as the day wore on, those who ran out of water dropped out with exhaustion. My vivid memory is of picturing the sink in the kitchen back home with water pouring out of the cold tap! Our Sgt. Major came down the line encouraging us to keep going boys, there are more Gurkhas dropping out than you lot. Which was quite true and came as a surprise as they had been in Burma for some time. I think by the time a water truck did come to us over half the Bn. had fallen by the wayside, good job the Japs didn’t know.

There was no little resistance, from about 25th April to 6th May it was a case of foot slugging and grabbed rides. We were warned not to drink any water from the village wells as the Japs had poisoned them- don’t know what the poor villagers did! Walking warily through these villages I would wave to them as they sat impassively watching us from their open windows and verandas, some very attractive girls too!

I guess we would be doing about 15 miles marching each day, mostly on the road. Our platoon of approximately 30 men was commanded by a 2nd. Lt. (Bradley), ex policeman, from Batley. The 2 I/C was Sgt. Alf Spence from Hull. There were then 3 sections of 9 men, each section led by a corporal- my section leader was Cpl. Martin- and a L/Cpl, in charge of the Brengunner and his number 2 which was my role at this time. There were 3 platoons to a Company(Ours was D, commanded by a bullshitting, ignorant old swine called Major Hind, the C.S.M. was called, amongst other things), and 3 Companies to the Bn.

On the point of reaching its goal, (Rangoon), the Div. was halted about 25 miles north by a badly swollen river- the bridge had been destroyed. The monsoon had arrived, and so did 26th, 2nd Div., which landed by sea and air on an almost deserted Rangoon. From the start of the offensive in February 1945, 17th Division had advanced 725 miles, from Imphal to Helega in under 3 months, accounting for 10263 enemy killed for just over 2000 allied troops.

Although Rangoon had fallen and the Rangoon- Mandali road was in our hands, a large number of Japs were off to the west in the hills known as Pegu Yomas. They decided to break out east, try and force their way through our long tenuous lines, and go across the Zeittang River to eastern Burma, which was still enough.

So, on 7th May, 99 Bde. moved north about 100 miles and one of the East Yorks. ‘dug in,’ in the grounds of Toungoo Hospital and prepared to make contact with the trapped enemy. We were very thinly stretched out. HQ of the Bn. were 20 miles further south at Pyu. The monsoon was now in full swing every afternoon at the same time it bucketed down and the mosquitoes became more of a menace than usual. Ratio were cut to 1/3 of normal, and to explain this, the Div. commander, Major General ‘Punch,’ Cowan came to give us a pep talk.

We were kept very busy patrolling both day and night and during the 5 weeks we were here the following incidents spring to mind: One evening a group of Japs were reported approaching from the West. Our platoon went out and set an ambush at the bottom of a track leading down from the railway track diving into a V about 75 yards from the railway. A trip wire was placed across the track this side of the rails, which, triggered, would shoot a very light up into the air. We settled down for the night and at about 2am up went the very flare and shapes coming down the track. I gave the order to fire and after a few blasts all was quiet. As dawn came it appeared that we had a ‘kill’ but it had 4 legs- not 2- a sow! The resulting pork was a welcome addition!

One night three of us were on a reconnaissance patrol. Was half moon light and we were about 5 miles from base when we heard voices. It was open paddy, the only cover a shallow ditch beside the path we were on, so in it we tried to conceal ourselves. I counted 19 Japs with an officer on a white horse were reported one coming down from the Pegu Yosi. Another company of the Bn. was ordered to intercept. Then came into contact with them and surrounded them in some scrub. In the meantime we had been called up as reserves. Which was just as well because the enemy opened accurate fire and killed most of the officers and W.C.O’s with shots to the head. We found out later that they were the Japanese Imperial Guard, and the officer on the horse was a general. We made a charge into the scrub with guns blazing but birds had flown. On exiting the 100 yards or so of scrub there was more open paddy and, in the distance more cover into which we could see the Japs entering. As they opened fire we sought as much cover as possible, which wasn’t much. Our C.O.- Major Hind was in the centre and was heard to say, as an M.C.O. approached him for further orders- ‘Don’t come near me- they will realise I’m an officer!’ It was during this engagement that the L/Cpl. Buck Rodgers (my pap from Deolali, who was in the other company), was very badly wounded in the stomach and died on June 2nd. The final incident from this period happened one night when, after a long day patrol I fell into a deep sleep in my foxhole, which I shared with another chap whose name I forget. I remember, in the early hours being wakened by gunfire but was too tired to awake properly. When dawn broke, I poked my head above ground to find a dead Jap almost within touching distance, he still held an unexpected grenade in his hand! About this time I was promoted to full corporal. The best benefit I received from this promotion was to be given quarters within the hospital, in fact it was an old padded cell complete with straight jacket! This I occupied for the 2 or 3 weeks, until 99 Bde. then were ordered to proceed to the town of Kalaw, about 60 miles east of Meiktila. Kalaw is, or was, a hill station, where the fire war British rules and administrators of Burma would come to escape the heat and worse rains of the monsoon. Our platoon was billeted in one of their spacious airy villas complete with ceiling fans- such luxury- and in the garden there was a patch of strawberries and pineapples. Apart from standing guard on an Auster Spotter Plane which had crash landed that’s all I remember of Kalaw although the weather was a distinct improvement from being down on the plains.

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