1941, Thursday 25 September;
The Engineer NCO thrush the pole into the stream, a marker indicating it was a little under four shaku, his free arm then waved his men forward. In, the team of four splashed, closing with the far bank, one either side, front and back, the rear pair in water up to their arm pits, holding the cross beams on a shoulder, supporting the light pontoon bridge of five bamboo trucks lashed together, a second bridge team followed, standing behind, providing a complete crossing of the stream. The platoon of infantrymen, rifles slung, an arm through the bicycle frame, resting it on their shoulder, began crossing, verbal shouts from their NCO demanding a faster pace, one at a time, stepping across each pontoon, and then up the bank, back onto the road. A Staff Lieutenant watched, standing on the adjacent road bridge, one eye on his watch, timing the event. One soldier fell off, splashing heavily, the NCO barking angrily to the rest to continue crossing, the soldier surfacing, and then struggling to wade towards a bank. Having reached it, under an onslaught of blows and curses from his platoon sergeant, he unslung his rifle and removed his back pack, before stepping back out into the stream, his feet feeling around for the lost sunken bike.
Despite the NCO’s urging, the pace slowed, no one else having any inclination to falling in. The bike found and recovered, the soldier climbed out onto the bank, slung his back pack and rifle, hoisted his bicycle on his shoulder, and under further blows from his sergeant, cross the pontoon bridge, the platoon sergeant, the last to cross, chasing him, the rest of the platoon already across, onlooking. Their work complete, now the Light Bridging section could cross, firstly several sappers with a bicycle on each shoulder, who then promptly returned, and the two lightweight carts, each carefully wheeled over, the cart inclined, using just one wheel. Further bikes, rope, and a couple of bundles of shovels, axes, and other engineering material was carried across, before, lastly, with everything on the far bank, the Engineer sergeant cross the pontoon bridge, ordering his men out, onto the far bank, their mission successfully complete. The Lieutenant noted the time, satisfied with the outcome.
Any move into South East Asia would see the Japanese Army operating in an environment they knew little about, the jungle, and so a small planning unit, the Taiwan Army Research Section, 30 strong including all its supporting staff, and a very limited budget, was formed in Formosa, to study what problems might arise. Raised at the beginning of 1941, it was headed by Colonel Yoshihide Hayashi, with individual staff officers given responsibility over specific areas, the Philippine Islands, Dutch East Indies, Burma, and Malaya, to which Lt Col Masanobu Tsuji, was assigned. Tsuji, a slim six-foot man with a shaven head, with a small moustache and round spectacles, came with considerable notoriety, his sometimes outrageous behaviour to superior officers, tolerated thanks to the supported by unnamed benefactors high in the Army General Staff.
Details and intelligence on Malaya and Singapore were garnered from a wide variety of sources, fishing boat skippers on conditions of the coastal waters of Eastern Malaya, the interior geography from officials working at a couple of Japanese owned mining companies, while other businessmen and embassy staff contributed additional information. What they noted was that most of the developed part of Malaya was on the western side of the spine of mountains, running down the peninsula. One line of the railway ran through here, with a number of branches to ports and commercial enterprises. There was also a fairly decent metalled road network linking the towns and cities with lots of plantations, mostly rubber, situated on their flanks.
Numerous rivers flowed from the mountain range, both east and west, the larger ones navigable for some distance, providing lateral riverine communications, and formidable barriers for north-south movement. The exception is the Perak River, which runs north to south for about 200 miles, before turning west at Teluk Anson, towards the Malacca Straits, for 50 miles in a series of bends. The smaller ports on both the eastern and western side provided a lot of coastal trade, with small steamers plying their routes between them and Singapore, where goods were often transhipped to ocean going vessels.
Military Officers, posing as tourists, were able to travel through some parts of the country, noting towns like Mersing, Kuantan, and Kota Bharu were in restricted security zones, and more importantly, there were a lot of rivers, and consequently, road and rail bridges, which if destroyed, would severely restrict any advance from moving quickly. Much of the garrison was made up of Indian troops, recently raised, while the best of the British troops had left for Britain or North Africa. Parts of an Australian Division were present, in all likelihood, assembling before transhipping to the Middle East. The equipment for the Army, like the RAF, was old, and not their best, it was noted a few Hurricanes had arrived, but there was no mention of any Spitfires coming. The Royal Navy was reduced to small numbers of old ships for patrolling, their main focus was on the German raiders operating in the Indian Ocean.
Under Tsuji’s drive and direction, the planners worked on developing a fast-moving Modus Operandi, of advancement, for capturing Singapore, adapting tactics and equipment to best allow this. Using the port of Singora as their point of supply, the main thrust down towards Singapore, of two divisions, supported by tanks, would cross the Isthmus, and advance down the western side of the peninsula, taking advantage of the excellent road network.
Both divisions would be mechanised, about 500 motor vehicles assigned to each, including 50 to each infantry regiment, to carry the heavy machine guns, battalion and regimental guns and their ammunition, and essential supplies. Everyone not allocated a seat in a motor vehicle, including junior officers, was given a bicycle, over 6,000 in total in each division. The infantryman was now mobile, with paniers attached to the seat, allowing them to carry between 65-80 pounds of equipment and supplies, with their rifle or light machine gun slung across their back. A bicycle repair squad of at least two men was assigned to each infantry company, expecting to repair about 10 bikes per man, per day. But in times of urgency, the punctured tyre would be removed and the bike ridden on the rims, if the road conditions allowed.
A secondary line of advance would be down the eastern coast, but the third division would not be mechanized, an absence of good roads making wheeled vehicles more of a hinderance. Therefore, supply would be by way of coastal shipping, while much of their advancement achieved by small amphibious landing hopping down the coastline. To support these operations a large Air Force was deemed necessary, firstly to destroy the RAF, and seize control of the air, and then, by hopping down the peninsula, from airfield to airfield, support the ground troops as they advanced. Any concerns about what the Royal Navy might do, were left to the IJN to deal with.
To help everyone involved in the operation, Tsuji had begun writing a Pamphlet, to be distributed to all the troops engaged in the campaign, titled “Read This Alone - And The War Can Be Won” which detailed all the military, ideological and economic aspects of the campaign, written in a simple way, so the common soldier could understand why Japan was going to war, and how important it was for Japan’s survival. And he emphasised that training and attitude would overcome any unseen obstacles that might present themselves to thwarting success. If war did come, the Japanese army would be ready!