大象传媒

Our last patrol was one of around 30 men including an officer and two sergeants. The other sergeant was a well-known character, he was known as 鈥楤londie Gilmore鈥�. By that time we were in the Southern Shan States pushing towards a place called 鈥楰alore鈥� held by the Japanese 鈥� very mountainous terrain.

We were given the task of finding out about a Japanese dump. I mentioned earlier about navigating in the jungle 鈥� you have to be very careful in the jungle as there are no recognisable landmarks, and you have to make sure you鈥檙e going to know your way back once you鈥檇 got there.

The patrol had to take the appropriate track and turn off at the right place, or follow a course of a certain tributary, or something, and right or left you鈥檇 always have to remember how to get back. That would often turn out to be the biggest trouble sometimes. If you met an enemy patrol and then you scattered, or whatever happened, you became disorientated for a little while; so it was very important that you should know how to read the signs and so on.

Anyway, this last patrol I was on was three days duration. We were going to climb up to a narrow plateau at the summit of a steep forward slope where an enemy鈥檚 ammunition dump stores had been reported from aerial observations. We were to check on this observation.

We set out soon after breakfast taking jungle rations for three days. We were all well aware that our time for relief and fly-out was very near. Our feelings were adequately expressed by Blondie Gilmore, 鈥淲e don鈥檛 want any bd looking for medals on this trip鈥�.

After following the jungle path for a short distance from our battalion position, we reached the course of a chaung (Burmese word for a stream); along which we trudged until we turned off on to the course of a tributary stream flowing in a deep ravine. We had to walk in the stream itself which like the earlier chaung, at that time of year had not too much water. The bed of the stream was covered with boulders and rocks, little waterfalls to negotiate here and there, and the heat was very oppressive.

About midday we came to the lower slopes of the hill we were to climb. It was thickly wooded and extremely steep. We seemed to be climbing an almost vertical incline. We sweated pints as we climbed our way up the slope. We made a few laborious yards up, and the only way you could rest was to lean against a tree. Then with a super-human effort you would struggle as fast as possible, and then lean against another tree to prevent yourself sliding back down the slope from where you鈥檇 just come. I cannot tell you what height that hill was; it could have been 500 鈥� 600 feet from the river bed which we had just left. It took hours to fight our way up!

Sometime in the late afternoon we had attained the plateau, the summit of which, like the slope, was thickly forested. A few moments later, quite close at hand I heard a piteous little startled cry which was cut short by a burst of Tommy gun fire. Pushing through a thicket a few yards to one side I came across Blondie Gilmore and the dead Jap. He was no doubt one of the enemy guarding the dump of stores of ammunition up on the ridge. They were most probably rear echelon troops who had come for a little job looking after the stores. This particular chap had wandered away into the quiet woods. He could not have expected to come face-to-face with Blondie Gilmore or any other British soldier. His little cry of alarm was cut short. There must have been great consternation and alarm back at the dump.

As we made our way slowly forwards the Japs must have got themselves organised and started firing off their weapons in all directions. We did not reply but lay still. Overhead, somewhere above the roof of the jungle, a spotter plane flew around the area. Our signallers were supposed to get in touch by means of the wireless set on the back of one of them. They kept trying to make contact, but for some reason could not, so could not confirm the existence of the Jap position back to division HQ.

Dusk was approaching. We withdrew slightly to where the slope of the ground gave us some cover from direct fire, and settled down in any nook or cranny for the night. After eating some of our rations we lay down to sleep; not forgetting to set sentries of course.

At intervals during the night the Japanese let fly with rifle and machine gun fire, which, when it did come in our direction was harmless as it went far over our heads. We were harboured close up under their noses, but given shelter by the configuration of the ground. Sometime before dawn the Japanese gave up firing, perhaps believing we鈥檇 withdrawn.

We moved off in the morning, cautiously along the side of the hill below the Japanese position, towards the farther end of the plateau; the object being to see if we could find out the extent of the huts and stores, and what access the enemy had at the farther end.

When our officer was obviously satisfied with what he鈥檇 seen, we began to retrace our steps across the hill. We kept our eyes on the upper slopes and summit above, both quite thickly wooded. Then we saw a small group of Japs, unconcernedly wandering about outside their perimeter. They must have spotted us about the same time as they fired a few shots in our direction. Our patrol fired up the hill letting fly with everything; then we carried on withdrawing back down the hill. It was so steep we had great difficulty in preventing ourselves crashing headlong down the hillside. Had it been bare of trees and other growth, we could not have done so. There was no further reply from the Japs. The most likely explanation being that the troops were rear echelon troops and men unfit for combat who had been left behind to look after the stores. We did not want to be drawn in to a fire fight as we were, primarily, on this occasion a recon-monitoring mission, but frontline Japanese units would never have let us get away so easily.

We were on our way to the battalion; somewhere along the way I saw the signaller had managed to drop his useless wireless over the edge of a precipice, hundreds of feet on to the rocks below.

All that day we struggled back through that dense heat without any untoward incident. We found, on some shingle, traces of a Jap patrol having a rest, but we saw nothing. That night we slept on some hard stony ground next to a chaung, so even I had difficulty in getting much sleep. We rejoined the battalion around mid-morning the next day another patrol was completed, but this time: the last one. We were all back safely. No one had a scratch, and no one had won a medal on that trip, but no one had particularly wanted to do so.

We were well aware that relief must come soon, and no one wanted to miss that plane. (A few days later, as it happens, we were flown out.)

Once we were safely inside that plane we were off to India. That was May, so we鈥檇 been there 10 months! Nearly all the time spent in the jungle, around the jungle and on the ground. We had only once- when we got to Maymo, where there were some tents: it was kind of like a headquarters, and there were some tents there.

When we got back to India, we started training. Our unit was 鈥榓ssault鈥�, an assault brigade. I don鈥檛 think they ever intended to put us in the Jungle, but that鈥檚 how it was. We started training for the assault on Malaya. And while we were doing that the Americans dropped the atomic bomb, and the Japanese gave up; so we never did go to Malaya.

We were the last battalion in India.

This story was submitted to the People鈥檚 War site by Becky Barugh of the 大象传媒 Radio Shropshire CSV Action Desk on behalf of Richard Jones and has been added to the site with his permission. The author fully understands the site's terms and conditions.

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