大象传媒

These 'stories' are short accounts of trhe sort of things that went on from time to time in my comparatively short career in 2 armies, British and Indian.
Now, back to the jungle......
DOWN IN THE JUNGLE.....

By this time we knew that we were destined for India, so that we could 'have a crack at the Jap' as our gung-ho officers were wont to encourage us! Not that we cared. We were young and stupid, inclined to gung - ho-ism ourselves, and actually looking forward to it.
It was natural, therefore that a week of Jungle Warfare training had been included in our curriculum. As this took place in the middle of a snow- and ice- ridden swamp outside Maidstone in mid-December, it failed in its bid to accurately replicate the conditions to be found in the Burmese jungle, and its effectiveness has to be in some doubt......
However, we entered into the spirit of the thing with gusto. By this time we were all about as fit and tough as we would ever be. Certainly in my case, the fitness curve was all downhill from then on.
In bitter cold we charged ankle deep through freezing water, lay full length in soaking, winter-seared grass, even plunged chest-deep into swollen streams, rifle held defiantly above our heads. Churchill would have been proud of us. Or shaken his head in sorrow. "Let them all come, from the four corners of the earth. We shall NEVAH...surrender!" Oh well.....
On a memorable occasion, one 'Tojo' Mason - so called because of his disconcerting likeness to the Emperor of Japan - was acting as Platoon Commander. Pausing momentarily on the bank of our biggest water obstacle yet, he gallantly shouted "FOLLOW ME" and plunged in. It was, perhaps, unfortunate that he had selected what was probably the only bit of the entire stream which contained an 8 foot depression. He totally disappeared, even the rifle held over his head!
Needless to say, not one of his intrepid and valiant platoon were silly enough to follow him in. He reappeared spluttering and gurgling about two yards further down where the water came up to his knees, and we fell about laughing as one man. Then we crossed at the shallow part!
At nights we returned to our base, a disused and derelict factory where we built huge fires by ripping out what remained of the door and window frames, stripped off our saturated uniforms to dry, while we pranced about naked and unashamed, - almost, - not a pretty sight, - cooking and eating ghastly concoctions in our mess tins, swigging macho mugs of cocoa, and singing lewd songs.
God knows what the Commander of the 14th Burma Army would have thought. Probably repeated the Duke of Wellington's assessment of his men on the eve of Waterloo; "I don't know what they will do to the French, but by God they frighten me!" Something like that anyway...

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