Central Kra Isthmus, Siam 0600 January 3, 1943
Three regiments of twenty five pounders fired their initial rounds. The spotters quickly called in adjustments. Some batteries were short. Some batteries were over. One battery was just about perfectly placed. A few batteries had their shells land to the west. By now, none of the guns had factory fresh barrels. Equipment was fighting against the ever increasing skill of the gunners. The men could plot a nearly perfect round given the weather, ammunition type, humidity and terrain but the barrels were introducing dispersion that at the start of the campaign was the result of the accumulation of miniscule manual errors.
Within a minute, the entire artillery line was firing. Each gun had a nine shell allotment to wake up the Japanese defenders that had been besieged for a week. They were caught off and isolated. But hopelessness had not forced a surrender. Either they were entranced with death or they were hoping for relief from their navy.
Digging them out took time.
Each day, more bunkers were cleared.
Each day, more hospital beds were filled.
Each day more graves were dug.
Two battalions of Ghurkas were scheduled to go over the top and clear out another section of defenses. Scouts had been probing the lines over night. Engineers had stockpiled more line charges and satchel charges and a dozen other specialized things that go boom. Medics had stockpiled morphine and tourniquets. Infantrymen had found another bandolier of bullets over normal allotment and khukris had been honed to their optimal edge.
And then they did not advance. The brigade commander had gotten a call from division to not attack. The army commander had ordered no more offensive infantry operations that were solely seeking to mop-up. Rumors started to fly up and down the lines.
