Tank Tracks to Rangoon (14 page)

Evans was a strong character who did not always get on with everyone. Unfortunately, he did not get on with Frink, and to avoid misunderstandings which could have dire consequences, Major Hugh Ley, the Dragoons’ second-in-command, was attached to Evans’s staff, as permanent armoured liaison officer. What could have been an awkward situation was thus satisfactorily resolved, with Ley being in the position of local commander of the tanks, whilst Frink retained overall command of the regiment, one squadron of which was sent out of the box, as we shall see; the reason being that there were too many tanks within the perimeter, producing an overkill situation, when they could have been better employed elsewhere.

Such importance did Evans attach to the tanks that he shared his uncomfortable slit trench with Ley. The latter’s soldier servant, a L/Cpl Evans, had been a gentleman’s gentleman in civilian life, and did not approve at all of life in the Army, which he endured with a certain straight-faced dignity, simply replacing the military for the civilian idiom. Each morning he would bring the officers a mug of tea at stand-to, and although the night had been rent continuously by heavy firing and Japanese screams of ‘Banzai!’ he would always enquire solicitously, ‘Will you be requiring a new slit trench dug today, Sir?’ He used the same tone in which he would have asked, if it was in order to lay out his officer’s riding clothes. L/Cpl Evans probably contributed more to the defence of the Admin Box than he ever imagined.

Every morning, Ley would leave Box HQ and go over to the Dragoons’ Regimental HQ for the daily conference and orders group. He travelled in his tank, and the route took him over the shallow saddle between Artillery and Ammunition Hills. The saddle was in the sights of an enemy anti-tank gun, and after one or two near misses, Ley solved the problem by deception. The tank would gather speed approaching the saddle, towing the usual cloud of dust behind, and then stop dead. The dust cloud would roll over the vehicle, onto the saddle, the Japanese would fire into it, and before they could reload, Ley was himself over the saddle, and into dead ground. The Japanese never worked out what was happening, and the ritual continued throughout the siege. The return journey was less complicated, as the tank was screened throughout its journey by dust.

During the night of 7th February the Japanese committed a deed which, even by their unexacting standards, was as evil as it was unnecessary. A party, accompanied by Jifs;
*
succeeded in penetrating the perimeter and reached the Main Dressing Station. After wiping out the few West Yorkshires protecting the MDS, they broke in, killed the doctors and orderlies, and bayoneted the British and some Indian patients, where they lay. Then they dug in amongst the shambles, and were not ejected until two days later, when a West Yorkshire company fought its way through the position with the support of a troop of Lees. Fifty Japanese were killed, including an officer on whose body was found the entire plans for the
Ha-Go
offensive.

When the details of the massacre at the MDS became common knowledge throughout the army, the reaction was violent and long lasting. Neither British nor Indian troops fought with any personal feelings of hatred towards their enemies, and were often given to a bluff sympathy towards their prisoners, providing them with cigarettes and looking at their family photos. In an instant, this was changed, and the Japanese were regarded with a deep loathing; instead of thinking of them as soldiers, 14th Army regarded them as one regards dangerous insects—something to be stamped on and destroyed without feeling. From now on, there would be little mercy for the Japanese, and since they did not seek it, it was just as well.
†

During the afternoon of the 8th, the garrison almost suffered an irreparable disaster. A flight of Zeros arrived, skip-bombing, and one bomb landed in the main ammunition dump on Ammunition Hill, starting a major fire. Amidst desperate efforts to move the dump, shells continued to explode and vehicles to burn, until the heavy night dew doused the blaze in the early hours of the following morning.

The garrison was not, however, taking all this quietly, and daily attacks were taking place, with direct fire support from the tanks, to clear the enemy off the surrounding hills. On the 9th, ten tanks from A Squadron left the box to join 33 Indian Brigade in their own box, which they reached safely.

For their part, the Japanese attacked almost continuously, but their attacks were unco-ordinated, and were thrown back by the defenders and the point-blank fire of the Lees. During the night, when the tanks could not be used to full effect, the enemy was able to close with the garrison, and innumerable deadly little personal battles were fought. The Japanese began to lose heavily without gaining ground, and the garrison began to gain confidence. On 11th February, supplies were dropped by air for the first time, and continued to be dropped regularly throughout the siege.

On the same day, the enemy secured a lodgement on Artillery Hill. It was absolutely essential that he should be thrown out, since he overlooked the water point, ammunition dump and main headquarters, and an attack was mounted by two West Yorkshire platoons and two troops from C Squadron.

The tanks began by firing instantaneous fuse high explosive to clear the scrub off the top of the hill, and then switched to delayed fuse HE to engage the bunkers so revealed, finally firing a continuous barrage of armour-piercing shot into the bunkers until the infantry had closed right up to them. The West Yorkshires reached the top, but a number of snipers remained concealed in dense scrub about half way up, and it took two further days before the feature was completely cleared.

On the 13th came heartening news from outside. 5th Indian Division was pushing one of its brigades through the Ngakyedauk Pass, although progress was slow. Lt Johnson’s troop was sent out towards the pass, but was forced to return after encountering a road block at the foot of the pass, and being ambushed on the way. During the day, the Zeros landed another bomb in the ammunition dump, causing fires and explosions. Two days later the same dump was hit again, this time by shellfire, but air drops continued to make good the losses.

A Squadron, working with 33 Brigade, carried out a most destructive shoot on Ngakyedauk village, suspected of being a major Japanese supply centre and assembly area for Jif units. The squadron, now at full strength since its remaining seven tanks had joined it from the Admin Box, fired non-stop for twenty minutes, utterly destroying the village, the site of which was then occupied.

For the Japanese,
Ha-Go
was beginning to turn out very badly, however desperate the situation might appear to the defenders of the Admin Box. The British had not been panicked
into fighting their way out; they were staying put, and they were being supplied by air regularly, whilst the ramshackle Japanese supply system was showing signs of breaking down where it had not stopped completely. 55th Division was taking casualties at a quite disproportionate rate, but had very little to show for it. On the other hand, 5th Indian Division which should by now be conducting a disorderly withdrawal, was actually menacing the western end of the Ngakyedauk Pass, whilst General Christison had committed a fresh division, 26th Indian, which was now advancing southwards to sever the communications of Kubo and Tanahashi.

The gallant defence of the Admin Box was causing Tanahashi to lose face with his superiors. His excuse to Hanaya was that he had not expected to find tanks east of the Mayu range, and that they were present in large numbers. At a meeting of his unit commanders he called for greater sacrifice to put an end to what he called the ‘hysterical’ defence; coming from a Japanese officer, this was really rich. The men on the spot knew that unless they could dispose of the tanks they were not going to get anywhere, and although several had been hit and set on fire, they were not being destroyed fast enough. A suicide attack was rashly mounted on the Dragoons’ harbour, but was destroyed in the open paddy. Phosphorous shells were fired in an attempt to set fire to the grass around the tanks, without success.

Meanwhile, several additional infantry companies had been able to work their way into the box, taking some of the strain off the exhausted West Yorkshires. Nonetheless, conditions inside the perimeter were anything but pleasant, shelling, mortaring and sniping being constant. During the night, the Japanese kept the mens’ nerves on edge with their jitter parties when they were not actually attacking. The whole area now reeked of death and cordite, and was covered with the skeletons of countless smashed and burned out vehicles. By 16th February the new dressing-station contained almost 500 casualties.

During the night of 15th February firing had been heard from the direction of the old divisional headquarters. As this had nothing to do with the Admin Box’s immediate defence, nor could have involved troops from 7th Division’s equally embattled brigades, a patrol from C Squadron under Captain Alexander was sent out the following morning to investigate. By 1000 hours Alexander was in contact with 1st Lincolnshire Regiment, the leading unit of 26th Indian Division. The Lincoin’s
adjutant, brought into the box, was able to tell General Messervy that an attack on Point 315, covering the eastern approach, had been halted by determined Japanese resistance, and that his battalion was to pull back a little. In covering the Lincoln’s withdrawal, one of C Squadron’s tanks was hit by mortar fire and burned out, and a second ditched so badly as to be irrecoverable for the present.

B Squadron also had a derelict tank, and they used this to test the effectiveness of some captured Japanese magnetic mines. It was found that when applied to the sides of a Lee, the explosion merely bulged the plating inwards; however, when placed on top of the tank, above the operator’s seat, the mine blew a hole clean through the roof, the floor below, and ten inches into the ground. It was immediately recommended that wire frames should be fitted above the vulnerable top plates to prevent an effective contact being made.

Meanwhile, 5th Indian Division, supported by a squadron made up from the 25 th Dragoons’ spare tanks and crews, was making good progress through the Pass. Commanding the squadron was Major James Allason, a Carabinier officer who had been sent up by GHQ on a fact-finding tour, and now found himself playing a leading role in the relief operations.

On reaching the summit of the Pass, the leading brigade found itself held up by the grandfather of all bunker complexes. From the main position, which was exceptionally well constructed, subsidiary bunkers radiated, spitting fire, and for once the Lees were unable to subdue the opposition.

Allason consulted the divisional CRA, and between them they drew up a plan. A 5.5-inch howitzer was brought up, and two tanks manoeuvred into position to provide protection for the gun and its crew. The Japanese fired everything they had at the little party, but it was too late. Methodically, the gun slammed its heavy shells into one fire slit after another, and after about twenty rounds all that was left of the complex was smoking craters. The advance continued.

On the 22nd C Squadron and two companies of KOSB left the Admin Box to try and make contact. A road block delayed progress for most of the day, and when this was cleared, a further block was discovered a little beyond.

The next day the operation continued, and contact was established between the KOSB and two Punjabi battalions from 5th Division. To all intents and purposes, the siege was over,
although the Japanese remained in the area in some strength for some days, and one anti-tank gun, located near Tattenham Corner, made a nuisance of itself until finally disposed of on the 25th. This gun opened up on any tank within range, and had disabled Colonel Frink’s tank with a hit on the side.

Tanahashi’s men withdrew as best they could, defeated, starving, and doubting themselves and their leaders for the first time. Hanaya’s once proud 55th Division had taken over 5,000 casualties, and had almost been crushed by the embrace of three British divisions; in return, beyond the infliction of some 3,000 casualties on 15 Corps, it had accomplished precisely nothing.

As the morale of the Japanese fell, that of the British and Indian troops rose in proportion. They had met and beaten the enemy at his own game, and things would never be quite the same again, since the Japanese had not only been out-fought, but out-generalled as well.

The part played by 25th Dragoons, both inside and outside the Admin Box, had been critical, and the presence of their tanks had clearly upset Tanahashi’s plans, since he had no effective way of dealing with them. The regiment’s War Diary for the period is, at first glance, a most modest and matter-of-fact summary of events, but the daily entries, taken together, show a constant involvement in an aggressive defence, supporting attacks at one point, beating them off at another, defensive shoots, patrols, and recovery of tanks and air-dropped supplies under fire.

‘25th Dragoons were a continual source of anxiety to the Japanese, who time and again made suicidal efforts to reach and destroy their tanks. One effort was reminiscent of the Charge of the Light Brigade, when a large party put in a bayonet charge in broad daylight across open paddy fields in a desperate attempt to destroy the tanks with hand placed explosives. Every man of the attackers was killed by the fire of the tanks and the motorized company of 3/4 Bombay Grenadiers long before they reached their objective.’

Such is the tribute paid by 7th Indian Division in their history,
Golden Arrow
; the historian of 5th Indian Division was even more specific.

‘The debt owed to these tanks and their crews cannot be over emphasized. It was their accurate, high velocity, close range blasting which put our infantry back whenever the Japanese
penetrated our defences or captured any vital position.’
*

Had the relief of the Admin Box been the end of organized fighting in the Arakan, no doubt the film maker could have shown the Dragoons’ Lees roaring off into an improbable sunset. Unhappily, life is seldom so accommodating, and the regiment was committed to a further two months gruelling fighting.