大象传媒

It was on the 24 February 1945, that the 7th Battalion, the Worcestershire Regiment attempted to cross the Irrawaddy River. Various articles have been written about the
difficulties encountered during this operation, from which I have extracted the following observations.

Arthur Helliwell wrote this for the Daily Herald a few days afterwards.
鈥淶ero hour was 09.30am and we were to move off in ninety minutes time. Before midnight we hoped to be safely across the Irrawaddy to form a bridgehead that would be within thirty miles from Mandalay. Two days previously, the 2nd Division Commander Major General Nicholson, had promised that once acoss on the other bank, the British troops would go like 鈥渢he hounds of hell鈥�.

I was chatting to Captain Leslie Bailey, and his men from the 7th Bt. the Worcestershire Regiment, in whose boat I was to travel. Then it was time to leave. There was a final check of weapons. The Company Commanders batman, Johnny Walker, helped me on with my pack and 鈥楳ay-West鈥� and handed me my pick and shovel to dig my 鈥榝ox-hole鈥� on the other side.
鈥淕ood luck, Sir,鈥� he said.

There was a rattling of rifle bullets, quiet orders were received from our Company Commander, Major Frank Burrell, and we were off, our shadows marching darkly with us along the road. The moon was high and bright and it glistened coldly and drenched the countryside in silver light. The night was alive with the high-pitched shrilling of insects, and some way off a jackal yelped.

Presently, as gunfire began to flicker, along the horizon, we reached the boats. They were drawn up under cover 600 yards from the river bank. We split up, 12 men to a boat, and began to carry them through rustling, shoulder high corn. It was hard work for the boats were heavy and 50 yard spurts were all that we could manage. In between we rested for three minute spells, breathing hard and pressing our sweating faces into sweet-smelling grass.

And then we came out on the sands, flat and bare and white as the moon鈥檚 face, running the 300 yards to the water鈥檚 edge. As we hauled the boats across the sands, we felt as conspicuous as flies on a plate. We could look to the left and right and feel and see how plainly that we were etched against the shore.
The Japs were just across the river. And we knew damn well that if they were awake they could see us. Now, when we rested between the spurts, we lay flat and prayed, with faces pressed into the sand, For the first time that night, not not the last, I felt afraid. THIS WAS IT!

We came at last to the water and waded forward to launch our boats. Then we climbed in and knelt, waiting, paddles poised and dripping. This was it, zero hour was ten seconds off. We started in a long straight line, paddling noiselessly, ears straining and eyes searching the dark shoreline. Suddenly, when we were in midstream, there was a single vicious crack, followed by a sound like tearing calico, as machine-guns opened up. Someone shouted鈥� 鈥淭hey have seen us, paddle like hell, boys !鈥�

An then from the Company Commanders boat came a crisp or order. 鈥淪tart up the outboards.鈥�
In our stern a man fiddled and swore, but nothing happened, and we paddled furiously with bullets whining like angry bees over our heads. Two thudded into the boat and I felt a gush of water against my legs. To the right and left of us other boats were sinking under the men as they paddled. The Company Commander鈥檚 boat had sunk too, and the water ahead was dotted with bobbing heads.

Boats were sinking faster than you could count them, and the rest of us were milling around in confusion, as motors failed to start and the current carried us towards the Jap guns.
One youngster in the water threw up his hands and cried鈥� For God鈥檚 sake , save me鈥� as we drifted past, but we were helpless. Other drowning men were clinging to our boat, and soon it was obvious that with so many boats sunk, we would never hope to force a landing. Came the order 鈥淏ack to the sands.鈥�

And so we turned back. We were luckier than most. We managed to reach the shore by wading waist deep in the cold water, while several others struggled out drenched from head to foot near exhaustion, leaving many behind dragged down by the weight of their clothes and equipment.

We scattered over the sands, trying to dig in with our elbows and knees. Bullets whipped around us. Everywhere men were swearing, cursing slowly and deliberately as they lay there.
You couldn鈥檛 blame them. These men had been eager for a scrap. They were crack British Infantry, and all they could do was to cower helplessly on that exposed beach. The man next to me kept clenching and unclenching his fists 鈥� If only we could have got at the bastards,鈥� he kept repeating. 鈥淚f we鈥檇 had decent boats, nothing would have stopped us鈥�.

This was true enough. The boats were five years old. They had gone to France and back with these boys in the dark days of Dunkirk, and over here they had rotted in the scorching sun. Seventeen boats sank, some riddled with bullet holes,it is true, but many were gapping at the seams, before we were halfway across. Further down the river, other units from the Division, the Cameron Highlanders and the Royal Welsh Fusiliers, were fighting there way ashore against heavy Jap resistance and as we lay on the sands, pinned down by Jap crossfire, we heard that they had made it. It was good news but it made our own pill the more bitter to swallow.

鈥淭hey鈥檒l think we鈥檝e let them down,鈥� a young voice said close to me. 鈥淚t wasn鈥檛 our fault鈥� the voice continued, 鈥渨e weren鈥檛 afraid of bullets, it was those bloody boats that let us down.鈥�
I shall not easily forget these men struggling in the water, and the wounded who lay cursing angrily on their stretchers, because they had not had a chance to fight. 鈥淭ell the folks back home we were not to blame鈥� said one. So I have tried to do as he asked.

Now as I write, the bridgehead is firm. Tanks, guns, bulldozers, men and supplies are pouring across the water and the Jap鈥檚 are going back. It has been a success.鈥�

Only the gallantry and determination of the British Infantry men of General Nicholson鈥檚 2nd Division turned the scales.

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