Part 12 (1/2)

The material damage inflicted upon j.a.panese industry by LeMay's offensive was almost irrelevant, because blockade and raw-material starvation had already brought the economy to the brink of collapse. Many raids burnt out factories where production was already flagging or halted. Yet no nation could regard with indifference the destruction of a large proportion of its urban housing, whatever the protestations of the j.a.panese military to the contrary. It seems essential to acknowledge the psychological impact of the B-29 campaign. No human being of any culture could fail to be impressed, indeed awed, by such a display of the enemy's might and his own nation's impotence. It seems impossible to doubt that, when j.a.panese surrender eventually came, it was influenced in some degree by the U.S. bomber offensive which preceded and indeed followed Hiros.h.i.+ma. It remains unlikely that the Twentieth Air Force's contribution justified its huge moral and material cost to the United States. It seems absurd, however, to deny its contribution to the collapse of j.a.pan's will to resist.

For posterity, perhaps most important is to perceive LeMay's campaign as setting the stage, creating the moral and strategic climate, for Hiros.h.i.+ma and Nagasaki. A recent study has observed: ”n.o.body involved in the decision590 on the atomic bombs could have seen themselves as setting new precedents for ma.s.s destruction in scale-only in efficiency.” Like Sir Arthur Harris, Curtis LeMay remained impenitent to the end. After the war, he shrugged: ”Nothing new about death on the atomic bombs could have seen themselves as setting new precedents for ma.s.s destruction in scale-only in efficiency.” Like Sir Arthur Harris, Curtis LeMay remained impenitent to the end. After the war, he shrugged: ”Nothing new about death591, nothing new about deaths caused militarily. We scorched and boiled and baked to death more people in Tokyo on that night of 910 March than went up in vapor at Hiros.h.i.+ma and Nagasaki combined.” He claimed to regret nothing.

THIRTEEN.

The Road past Mandalay

j.a.pAN'S 1944 1944 DISASTERS DISASTERS in a.s.sam and Burma prompted a wholesale sacking and replacement of its generals. The new commander-in-chief, Gen. Hoyotaro Kimura, set about painstakingly rebuilding his forces in readiness to meet the British Fourteenth Army, advancing south-eastwards. He offered no challenge to Slim's crossings of the Chindwin in November and December. As the British advanced, they encountered pitiful relics of their 1942 defeat: a column of thirty-eight Stuart tanks, blown up when they could not be evacuated, together with scores of rusted civilian vehicles, some still occupied by skeletons. Slim snapped at a man who decorated his jeep with a skull, telling him to take it off: ”It might be one of our chaps in a.s.sam and Burma prompted a wholesale sacking and replacement of its generals. The new commander-in-chief, Gen. Hoyotaro Kimura, set about painstakingly rebuilding his forces in readiness to meet the British Fourteenth Army, advancing south-eastwards. He offered no challenge to Slim's crossings of the Chindwin in November and December. As the British advanced, they encountered pitiful relics of their 1942 defeat: a column of thirty-eight Stuart tanks, blown up when they could not be evacuated, together with scores of rusted civilian vehicles, some still occupied by skeletons. Slim snapped at a man who decorated his jeep with a skull, telling him to take it off: ”It might be one of our chaps592, killed on the retreat.” In northern Burma, shortly before Christmas men of 19th Indian Division joined hands with advanced elements of Stilwell's Chinese divisions at Banmaux. By the end of January, the Burma Road into China was at last open all the way to Kunming, and the first truck convoys of supplies began to move north. To acute British dismay, Chiang Kai-shek, having gained what he wanted from the campaign, ordered his Nationalist divisions back to their homeland, leaving Slim's forces to pursue unaided the advance towards Rangoon.

It seemed to the j.a.panese inevitable that the invaders would now drive south towards Mandalay, that city of temples beside the Irrawaddy, a lyrical rendezvous in British imperial folklore. Kimura's plan was to allow the British deep into Burma, where their lines of communications would become extended, while his own remained short. He then intended that the ten divisions of his 15th and 33rd Armies would smash Slim's forces as they sought to cross the Irrawaddy north of Mandalay.

Unfortunately for Kimura, however, Slim antic.i.p.ated his foe's intention. In addition to notable powers of generals.h.i.+p, the British commander also possessed the luxury of strength, not only in infantry numbers but also in overwhelmingly superior air, artillery and armoured forces. He was able to support his advance with supplies air-dropped on an unprecedented scale, a facility which went far to counter the difficulties of terrain. Most of the j.a.panese formations, by contrast, lacked half their men and were desperately short of guns. Slim dispatched one British corps to make a noisy feint in the north-19th Division crossed the Irrawaddy at Thaneikkyin on 11 January 1945. This was where Kimura expected an a.s.sault, and the j.a.panese launched exactly the big counter-attack Slim wanted to provoke. Next, the British x.x.xIII Corps staged another demonstration north-west of Mandalay, before beginning river crossings at Ngazun on 12 February. This prompted Kimura to commit the bulk of his forces. Yet all the northerly activity masked Slim's real purpose: to push another corps across the Irrawaddy fifty miles to the south-west at Pakokku, and then drive east to the vital road junction of Meiktila, far behind Kimura's front, cutting off most of the j.a.panese formations in Burma from their supply lines. By St. Valentine's Day 1945, the southerly British force, IV Corps, had secured an Irrawaddy bridgehead against negligible opposition, and was poised to launch the decisive coup of the campaign, the seizure of Meiktila.

A soldier of 17th Indian Division, George MacDonald Fraser, wrote wryly of Operation Cloak, Slim's deception to confuse the j.a.panese: ”He confused 9 Section593, too; we dug in at no fewer than three different positions in as many hours, Granda.r.s.e lost his upper dentures on a sandbank, little Nixon disturbed a nest of black scorpions in the dark...the general feeling was that the blame for the whole operation lay at the door of first, Winston Churchill, secondly, the royal family, and thirdly (for some unimaginable reason) Vera Lynn...We did not know that 'Cloak' had worked brilliantly; we were footsore, hungry, forbidden to light fires, and on hundred percent stand-to-even although, as Granda.r.s.e...pointed out, there wasn't a j.a.p within miles.”

Deception on this scale was only possible when the j.a.panese had lost the capability to conduct air reconnaissance, indeed possessed negligible intelligence-gathering capability. They lacked transport swiftly to change deployments, and firepower to hit hard even when they did so. The open country suited British armoured and mobile forces. This does not diminish Slim's achievement, however, in wrongfooting his enemy and masterminding an offensive which now began to inflict devastating casualties upon the j.a.panese, at small cost to Fourteenth Army. There was hard fighting in Burma between February and May 1945, when the British entered Rangoon. But the energy of j.a.panese defensive actions and counter-attacks reflected despair, rather than any realistic expectation of reversing the tide.

Fourteenth Army's advance on Mandalay, November 1944February 1945

EVERY MAN of Fourteenth Army experienced a surge of relief when, in the first days of 1945, they left behind the thick jungle and steep hills of northern Burma, breaking out into the flat paddy fields of the country's central plain. ”There was a wonderful of Fourteenth Army experienced a surge of relief when, in the first days of 1945, they left behind the thick jungle and steep hills of northern Burma, breaking out into the flat paddy fields of the country's central plain. ”There was a wonderful594 spirit of freedom and sheer joy at being able to move in open country again, to see tracks and villages,” wrote Col. Ted Taunton of the Northamptons.h.i.+re Regiment. ”The bad spell of claustrophobia against which we had had to fight so hard during the past three weeks was a thing of the past.” When they met Burmans, however, they sensed uncertainty. Local people questioned whether the British had returned for good, or were merely conducting further Chindit-style guerrilla operations from which they would retreat once more into India, leaving inhabitants who had smiled upon them to face j.a.panese retribution. A divisional headquarters wrote of the Burman: ”He is neither pro-j.a.p spirit of freedom and sheer joy at being able to move in open country again, to see tracks and villages,” wrote Col. Ted Taunton of the Northamptons.h.i.+re Regiment. ”The bad spell of claustrophobia against which we had had to fight so hard during the past three weeks was a thing of the past.” When they met Burmans, however, they sensed uncertainty. Local people questioned whether the British had returned for good, or were merely conducting further Chindit-style guerrilla operations from which they would retreat once more into India, leaving inhabitants who had smiled upon them to face j.a.panese retribution. A divisional headquarters wrote of the Burman: ”He is neither pro-j.a.p595 nor pro-British, he will go with the winning side. When the British left Burma he looted the British and if the j.a.panese are on the run, he will loot the j.a.p in the same way.” nor pro-British, he will go with the winning side. When the British left Burma he looted the British and if the j.a.panese are on the run, he will loot the j.a.p in the same way.”

Slim's men found themselves facing not sustained j.a.panese resistance, but fierce local battles wherever the enemy thought these worthwhile, or found himself unable to withdraw. Maj. John Hill commanded a company of the 2nd Berks.h.i.+res in his battalion's attack on an abandoned village named Kin-U. No artillery was available, but three hundred mortar bombs plastered the area to cover their a.s.sault, on a frontage of two hundred yards. The British had advanced most of the way through the village before its eighty-odd j.a.panese defenders responded. These were desperate men-a captured diary showed that they had been feeding themselves on monkey and dog meat. They poured all the fire they could muster upon the Berks.h.i.+res, whose gunner forward observation officer was badly wounded. By one of the drolleries of war, Hill found that this man's replacement had attended the same prep school as himself. A sergeant-major was killed as he brought forward ammunition. Hill's company headquarters became so heavily engaged that his second-in-command and storeman killed a j.a.panese soldier apiece.

At nightfall, the young captain led forward a patrol of Indian stretcher-bearers to his foremost platoon, pinned down by the enemy. They found two dead and one wounded British soldier, but could not locate the rest. Next morning, however, they awoke to find the enemy gone, having killed six and wounded seven of Hill's company. This was a characteristic little action, of the kind which steadily eroded Slim's strength. So grave was the worldwide British shortage of manpower that casualties, and especially junior leaders, could seldom be replaced. Fourteenth Army's numbers shrank with every step that it advanced southwards.

From an early stage, though the invaders sometimes met tough resistance, they also found evidence that the j.a.panese lacked the skills and determination of earlier times. Their patrolling seemed halfhearted, and they sometimes exposed themselves carelessly. The familiar j.a.panese savagery towards prisoners was undiminished, however. After a battle on 21 January, the Berks.h.i.+res found dead British soldiers beaten, stripped of their boots and suspended by electric flex upside down from trees. This encounter sharpened the battalion's sentiment against their enemy. ”Very few of us596, whether professional soldier or conscript or volunteer, felt any twinges of remorse when one either saw a dead j.a.panese or killed a live one,” wrote John Hill. ”We had, after all, spent the whole war learning how to kill the enemy-and he us. No one expected any mercy.” At Kabwet, on the Irrawaddy north of Mandalay, Hill's battalion lost nine officers and ninety other ranks, twenty-five of these in his own company, during operations to destroy a j.a.panese bridgehead. Gazing upon the enemy's dead after the battle, one of his men said with a twinkle in his eye: ”None of them surrendered597 then, sir?” then, sir?”

Slim's feint in northern Burma has been hailed by posterity as a brilliant stroke, but for those at the sharp end, the price was hards.h.i.+p and fear. When the British 2nd Buffs began to cross the Shweli River near Myitson with 36th Division on 1 February, they were cruelly punished. Private Cecil Daniels reached the j.a.panese bank unhurt, and lay under its lee with other men, watching the sufferings of those caught by fire in midstream. ”One of our chaps598 was calling, 'Please help...I've got it in the guts.' I felt so sorry for him...to be all alone and dying on a sandbar miles away from home tugged at my heartstrings but common sense got the better of me, I thought of my parents at home who had already lost one son. I was still cogitating whether to put one's life at risk when his cries got fainter and he slowly slipped beneath the water and floated away.” was calling, 'Please help...I've got it in the guts.' I felt so sorry for him...to be all alone and dying on a sandbar miles away from home tugged at my heartstrings but common sense got the better of me, I thought of my parents at home who had already lost one son. I was still cogitating whether to put one's life at risk when his cries got fainter and he slowly slipped beneath the water and floated away.”

That night in the precarious British bridgehead, Daniels was eating his rations in a foxhole when the darkness was rent open by gunfire and the cries of his platoon sergeant: ”They've broken through, get out, every man for himself!” The soldier wrote: ”Then came the pounding of boots and silhouettes of men in flight, rus.h.i.+ng past me kicking sand and dirt in my face as they ran down the bank, jumping into the swirling water. I sat in my hole quite bewildered by the rush of events, still eating my K ration.” Daniels was reluctant to quit his hole for the river, but in the chaos he saw no choice save to abandon helmet and pack, and join the panic-stricken throng wading back to the British bank of the Shweli. At dawn ”a scene of absolute misery met our eyes-the rest of the company (what remained of it) were morosely sitting or wandering about in a daze, very downhearted. Each one seemed to be asking others: 'Have you seen so-and-so?'” A lavish rum ration was issued.

Most men had lost their watches. Daniels had given his to a mate to mend. Now, he discovered that the mate was dead. Gazing at the brown water of the river, he saw the body of another company's sergeant-major lying bloated in the current: ”Although he wasn't much liked in the battalion, it was a shame to see him like that.” Though Daniels's company commander received a Military Cross for the action, it had cost the Buffs 114 dead and wounded. During the fortnight which followed, the river was successfully bridged elsewhere. It was fortunate for the spirits of Daniels and his comrades that they remained oblivious that they suffered in pursuit of a mere diversion.

The Shweli was a modest obstacle, beside the Irrawaddy. Slim staged Fourteenth Army's crossings of one of the biggest rivers in Asia with a ramshackle armada of a.s.sault craft, pontoons and rafts which Eisenhower's armies in Europe would have viewed with disbelief. There were no amtracs here. Slim himself observed ruefully: ”I do not think any modern army has ever attempted the opposed crossing of a great river with so little.” The ”big picture” at the Irrawaddy was of overwhelming British success. Yet some units suffered severely. The Northamptons, crossing at Kyigon with 20th Indian Division on 13 February, found some of their boats foundering and others drifting far downstream from their objectives. In rough and rising water, craft overturned, precipitating overburdened infantrymen into the current. While scores crawled through the shallows to duck incoming fire, Bombardier Lees of 114 Field Regiment splashed upright for five hundred yards in full view of the enemy. He was carrying a gunner forward observer team's radio, and refused to get the set wet.

Fifty miles southwards at Myitche, where 7th Indian Division crossed the Irrawaddy on its way to Meiktila, Slim's men were a.s.sisted by another diversion, which drew off the most effective local j.a.panese formation to meet a threat from an East African brigade at Seikpyu. So successful was this, a.s.serted the British official historian blandly, ”that it was counterattacked599 and driven back to Letse, thereby drawing away from the main battlefield the only formidable striking force the j.a.panese had in the area.” This account was a trifle disingenuous. In truth, Fourteenth Army was dismayed by the precipitate flight of the East Africans. An apologetic signal from their commander sought solace in the fact that one unit had retained its cohesion when the remainder fled: ”Despite recent bad behaviour and driven back to Letse, thereby drawing away from the main battlefield the only formidable striking force the j.a.panese had in the area.” This account was a trifle disingenuous. In truth, Fourteenth Army was dismayed by the precipitate flight of the East Africans. An apologetic signal from their commander sought solace in the fact that one unit had retained its cohesion when the remainder fled: ”Despite recent bad behaviour600 bulk 28 EA Brigade, 46 KAR (Nyasaland) remained unaffected...and have stood firm. Consider this fine performance especially in view behaviour remainder brigade.” Yet, while it was true that one significant j.a.panese unit went in pursuit of the East Africans, sufficient enemy remained at 7th Division's crossing point, four miles above Nyaungu, to cause much grief to the South Lancas.h.i.+re Regiment. bulk 28 EA Brigade, 46 KAR (Nyasaland) remained unaffected...and have stood firm. Consider this fine performance especially in view behaviour remainder brigade.” Yet, while it was true that one significant j.a.panese unit went in pursuit of the East Africans, sufficient enemy remained at 7th Division's crossing point, four miles above Nyaungu, to cause much grief to the South Lancas.h.i.+re Regiment.

Its men undertook the longest opposed river crossing of World War II. The Irrawaddy at this point was over 2,000 yards wide, which rendered it an alarming obstacle for heavily laden infantrymen in frail boats, even if the enemy was weak. The first of the South Lancs successfully rowed their boats across in silence and darkness during the early hours of 14 February. They established a bridgehead on the far bank without alarming the enemy. Then two j.a.panese were spotted swimming, apparently for pleasure. The enemy soldiers were shot, and thereafter a firefight developed. The rest of the South Lancs were late reaching the riverbank, and began the pa.s.sage in daylight. Many of their boats' chronically unreliable outboard engines puttered to a stop in midstream. j.a.panese machine guns began to rake them, killing two company commanders and wrecking wirelesses. The commanding officer's boat was sunk. He and his companions with difficulty swam to safety back on the British bank.

The current began to sweep boats downstream, in a deadly parade past j.a.panese guns. A battalion of Punjabis which followed the South Lancs faced the same ordeal. Col. Derek Horsford and his Gurkhas watched the melodrama with mounting horror: ”The South Lancs' CO601 eventually staggered into the presence of the brigade commander stark naked, and collapsed before his eyes, totally exhausted by his own and his unit's ordeal.” Yet matters were not as bad as they briefly seemed. Horsford's Gurkhas made the crossing almost unscathed. eventually staggered into the presence of the brigade commander stark naked, and collapsed before his eyes, totally exhausted by his own and his unit's ordeal.” Yet matters were not as bad as they briefly seemed. Horsford's Gurkhas made the crossing almost unscathed.

”With maddening sluggishness602 the boats nosed their way across the water,” wrote an eyewitness. ”Two boats grounded on a submerged and treacherous sandbank, but the men, quite undaunted, waded shoulder-deep in the swift current up to the beaches. At last all the boats grounded and the men swarmed up the cliffs and nullahs to their objectives on the high ground. More and more boats followed, heavily laden with troops, until boats were going both ways in an almost continuous stream while the air and artillery curtain of fire moved gradually downstream, and then back again behind the cliffs and beaches.” the boats nosed their way across the water,” wrote an eyewitness. ”Two boats grounded on a submerged and treacherous sandbank, but the men, quite undaunted, waded shoulder-deep in the swift current up to the beaches. At last all the boats grounded and the men swarmed up the cliffs and nullahs to their objectives on the high ground. More and more boats followed, heavily laden with troops, until boats were going both ways in an almost continuous stream while the air and artillery curtain of fire moved gradually downstream, and then back again behind the cliffs and beaches.”

Once the British and Indian vanguards were ash.o.r.e, they met little serious resistance. Some j.a.panese scuttled into tunnels, in which Slim's men entombed them with explosive charges. In one place, astonished British soldiers saw j.a.panese survivors form up in full equipment, then march into the river to drown themselves. Other defenders proved to be halfhearted members of the renegade Indian National Army, who surrendered or melted away into the countryside. Within days, the British striking force was concentrated on the east bank of the Irrawaddy, with no j.a.panese capable of stopping the dash on which it now embarked, sixty miles eastward to Meiktila.

The j.a.panese were soon being forced back from the river everywhere Slim's forces crossed. On 8 March, north of Mandalay the 19th Indian Division reported, ”Opposition encountered appears very disorganised.” Its senior staff officer, Col. John Masters, wrote exultantly:

We rumbled down the cattle tracks in the heavy dust, past strands of jungle where the crackle of small arms fire showed that we had caught some j.a.panese. The tank treads clanked through villages blazing in yellow and scarlet conflagrations, palm and bamboo exploding like artillery, grey-green tanks squatting in the paddy round the back, ready to machine gun any j.a.panese who tried to escape before our advancing infantry...trudging along the sides of the road plastered with dust and sweat...The light hung sullen and dark overall, smoke rose in vast writhing pillars from a dozen burning villages, and spread and joined to make a gloomy roof. Every village held some j.a.panese, every j.a.panese fought to the death, but they were becoming less and less organised.

Even at this late stage, the j.a.panese commanders refused to acknowledge the British push towards Meiktila as more than a feint. Thus, when 17th Indian Division reached the town, its spearheads met only a ragtag defence, which was swept aside in the first days of March. The j.a.panese 15th and 33rd Armies in the north were now cut off. At last, Kimura understood how disastrously he had been outmanoeuvred. He perceived no alternative save to throw everything into an attempt to regain Meiktila. As the British poured reinforcements into the town by road and air, one of the most desperate battles of the Burma campaign began, while further north Slim's forces closed on Mandalay. Each side deployed some six divisions. The j.a.panese, however, were obliged to do most of the attacking. Wherever they moved, they exposed themselves to British aircraft and artillery. While the units of Fourteenth Army were well-fed, heavily armed and equipped, those of their opponents were in sorry condition. There were around 3,200 j.a.panese in Meiktila itself, but most were service troops. Allied tanks moved boldly, because the j.a.panese were poorly supplied with anti-tank weapons and mines. Indeed, given the state of their formations, it is astonis.h.i.+ng that Kimura's soldiers put up the fight they did.

The 1/3rd Gurkhas, who were flown into Meiktila, fought their first action in defence of its airstrip. The battle proved ”fairly traumatic,” in the words of its adjutant, Captain Ronnie McAllister. ”The tanks took a pasting603 because we advanced across open ground, unreconnoitred. It was a general shambles. The j.a.panese did not open fire until our chaps were twenty-five yards away.” In earlier years back in India, McAllister, a career soldier, worried that he would be left out of the war. Now, however, he and his comrades found themselves in a nightmare predicament. They were led into battle by an old ”dugout” North-West Frontier colonel named ”Badger” Spaight, who was utterly confounded by the experience. To the relief of his men, after the first days Spaight was sacked, to be replaced by his second-in-command, Robert O'Lone, ”who thoroughly understood what he was doing, after three years in the job.” Thereafter matters went much better, though in Burma the battalion suffered a total of four hundred casualties, almost half its strength. ”The j.a.panese still had the reputation because we advanced across open ground, unreconnoitred. It was a general shambles. The j.a.panese did not open fire until our chaps were twenty-five yards away.” In earlier years back in India, McAllister, a career soldier, worried that he would be left out of the war. Now, however, he and his comrades found themselves in a nightmare predicament. They were led into battle by an old ”dugout” North-West Frontier colonel named ”Badger” Spaight, who was utterly confounded by the experience. To the relief of his men, after the first days Spaight was sacked, to be replaced by his second-in-command, Robert O'Lone, ”who thoroughly understood what he was doing, after three years in the job.” Thereafter matters went much better, though in Burma the battalion suffered a total of four hundred casualties, almost half its strength. ”The j.a.panese still had the reputation604 from 1944, and we were very scared of falling into their hands, but by now we had much more of everything than they did. It was obvious we were winning.” from 1944, and we were very scared of falling into their hands, but by now we had much more of everything than they did. It was obvious we were winning.”

On 16 March, 17th Division signalled insouciantly to Fourteenth Army: ”j.a.p suicide squads dug in605 Meiktila airstrip, temporarily delaying today's fly-in...clearing north end airfield proceeding merrily situation quickly developing slaughter.” For the j.a.panese, the battle was a ghastly experience. Gen. Masaki Honda, the eager fisherman now tasked to retake Meiktila, told his commander-in-chief bitterly: ”There aren't twenty serviceable guns left among the two divisions. It's quite hopeless to go on.” When ordered to hold his ground to enable the remnants of 33rd Army to escape, Honda asked for the order in writing, but said: ”My army will keep fighting to the last man.” So it did. Lt. Hayas.h.i.+ Inoue said: ”Meiktila was a place Meiktila airstrip, temporarily delaying today's fly-in...clearing north end airfield proceeding merrily situation quickly developing slaughter.” For the j.a.panese, the battle was a ghastly experience. Gen. Masaki Honda, the eager fisherman now tasked to retake Meiktila, told his commander-in-chief bitterly: ”There aren't twenty serviceable guns left among the two divisions. It's quite hopeless to go on.” When ordered to hold his ground to enable the remnants of 33rd Army to escape, Honda asked for the order in writing, but said: ”My army will keep fighting to the last man.” So it did. Lt. Hayas.h.i.+ Inoue said: ”Meiktila was a place606 where almost everyone died. There was nothing we could do. The British were so much stronger. Our anti-tank weapons simply bounced off their armour. We could only entrench ourselves behind the embankments of rice paddies. We were simply in the business of clinging on.” where almost everyone died. There was nothing we could do. The British were so much stronger. Our anti-tank weapons simply bounced off their armour. We could only entrench ourselves behind the embankments of rice paddies. We were simply in the business of clinging on.”

Ronnie McAllister, like every British Gurkha officer, deeply admired the courage of his little Nepalese soldiers, especially when acting as artillery observers, often three or four hundred yards in front of the infantry positions. Naik Dhanbahadur Limbu of the 3/10th Gurkhas was once manning an observation post, alone in a tree in front of his battalion position, taking muzzle-flash bearings of j.a.panese guns. He reported by phone that a big enemy attack was developing, and was told to clear out: within five minutes a British barrage would start falling around him. He chose instead to stay put. When a j.a.panese officer and several men a.s.sembled under his tree, Limbu dropped a clutch of grenades on them, killing three and wounding the officer. The j.a.panese never realised whence their nemesis came. All that night, Limbu calmly reported the enemy's movements as British salvoes bracketed his tree.

Further north, British and Indian soldiers driving down from the Irrawaddy were awed by their first sighting of Mandalay Hill, surmounted by its temples gleaming gold in the dusty haze. ”Here before us607,” wrote John Hill, ”was our first real goal at last: a recognisable place on the world's maps, not just an unknown village or a tangle of jungle.” By 11 March, Fourteenth Army's daily situation report described ”house-to-house608 and paG.o.da-to-paG.o.da fighting” taking place in Mandalay city. By the twentieth, the city was largely secured. Maj.-Gen. ”Punch” Cowan, commanding 17th Indian Division, learned that among the British dead in its streets was his own son. and paG.o.da-to-paG.o.da fighting” taking place in Mandalay city. By the twentieth, the city was largely secured. Maj.-Gen. ”Punch” Cowan, commanding 17th Indian Division, learned that among the British dead in its streets was his own son.