Friday 24 April 2020

BASE CAMP: NIPPON OR INDIAN?


My grandfather had many terrible experiences in the Burma campaign in the Second World War. One of the worst was getting there.  

Having just learnt to drive in theory, his knowledge was to be put to the test. My grandfather began his journey by road from India to Burma, a new driver who drove much more slowly than the others because of his lack of experience.
Driving to Burma meant crossing the infamous Tiddim road. The Tiddim Road was narrow 10-foot road that snaked steeply uphill alongside the stormy river Irrawaddy, a tributary of the tempestuous river Bramaputra. On one side, the land fell away into a gaping chasm, at the bottom of which the waters of the Irrawady flowed in swift, deadly currents.
My grandfather, the first-time driver, inched forward, driving a lumbering, 3-ton truck over a ten-foot hill track that was just barely wide enough for the vehicle. The stench of the swollen bodies of Japanese and Indian soldiers who’d fallen into the river floated alongside as a gruesome warning. If anyone fell into the river, that was it. There was no question of even attempting a rescue.
Before his very eyes, vehicles that lost their hold on their track tumbled into the river and were lost forever. Many people from his convoy lost their lives on the way, while the new driver watched grimly and tried to concentrate on the road. Inch by inch, judging the road with inexperienced eyes, he drove over the narrow, steep, serpentine road, one of the fortunate ones who made it through the nerve-wracking journey alive.  

On the way, young Waran, who had not seen action so far, had his introduction to combat at Mingalden Camp. The convoy passed through the body-strewn former theatre of war, where the bodies of slain Japanese soldiers lay stinking and swelling as they decomposed, still dressed in full battle-gear, still wearing their watches. In the middle of war, nobody had the time to bury the enemy.  

Real trouble came when my grandfather reached the rain-forests of Burma. In fact, he nearly drove right into it.
Nobody learns to drive without taking a few wrong turns, and my grandfather was no exception. Driving his big truck slowly and being the last in convoy in the thick Burmese jungle, the newbie driver Waran lost sight of the convoy. Guessing the way, he took the wrong fork on the road and got lost. New drivers often have a problem judging distances on the road when they drive. My grandfather miscalculated the distance and his left front wheel went over a culvert, hooked over the edge of the tiny bridge.
Sheer luck brought a British Sergeant on Military Police duty nearby to the rescue. “What’s the problem, Johnny?” asked the MP. All soldiers were addressed by the generic Englishman’s name ‘Johnny’ at that time, and to this day, the term ‘Johnny’ is sometimes used synonymously with ‘soldier’, especially by the older generations of army men.
“My vehicle has got stuck,” my grandfather told the MP. The MP used his radio to call for a recovery vehicle or ‘breakdown’ (as they were called back then), to pull the truck off the culvert and set it back on the road. 
The MP then told him that he was going the wrong way. My grandfather was headed straight for the Japanese base-camp! Had his vehicle not got stuck, my grandfather would have driven straight into the arms of the enemy.
Oh, and there was more.
The MP also told him that he was two miles into enemy-occupied territory, and that Japanese were, in fact, coming up from behind him, gaining on him every minute. “Run for your life!” the sergeant exhorted him. Turning the truck around, Waran drove hell for leather through the jungle to reach base camp, putting as much distance between him and the enemy with as much speed as he could.

When he finally reached his own base camp, exhausted , it was about eight o’clock, and everyone was in the middle of dinner. Huge cries of surprise and happiness greeted him. “We thought you had been captured by the Japanese!” exclaimed the other men. He very nearly had been, too.

That was how my grandfather almost became a Japanese prisoner of war – but didn’t!

Vous pourriez lire la version française de 
ce blogue à:
https://waranenguerre.blogspot.com/2013/09/en-avant.html
Merci de visiter mon blogue !

No comments:

Post a Comment

This is the story of my grandfather 's adventures in the Second World War, precisely as he would have recounted it to you himself, in ...