Malaya What If

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Wednesday 19 March

Keith Park and his party stood on the viewing gallery beside the Kallang control tower. They were watching the first few flights of the Brewster Buffalo fighter in the hands of the pilots of the newly formed RAF 67 and RNZAF 486 squadrons. The two new squadrons were being formed from a small cadre of RAF veterans, including a couple with experience of the Battle of Britain, while the rest of the pilots were New Zealanders, fresh from training school.

At first, they would train as one squadron, but with a steady trickle of new pilots joining he intended to split them apart in a couple of months. He’d spoken to the squadron and flight leaders, and made it clear that they would be flying finger four formations, and he wanted realistic training, and although he wouldn’t say it to anyone else, he wanted to be proud of his countrymen, and that meant he wanted them to be the best.

30 crated Buffalos had been delivered from the USA in the first week of March, and gradually, they were being assembled at Seletar, so in ones and two they were flown in to be handed over to the new squadrons. He had repeatedly been asking for Hurricanes, but Portal had assured him the Buffalo’s that had been ordered last year would be fine. The first few assembled planes had been tested, by a couple of Battle of Britain veterans, and it was as he feared, they were pigs. He’d ordered both pilots not to breath a word of negativity about the planes, but he'd already sent a confidential signal to Portal, expressing deep concerns and repeating his demands for Hurricanes. He knew he was very out of step with the Air Ministry, but after the way he’d been treated last year, he just really didn’t care anymore, in fact he felt he was spoiling for a fight!

Ever since the arrival of convoy WS 5BX his workload had increased, so much of it behind a desk, as his command began to grow. He’d just this very morning signed the paperwork authorising the raising of RAF Sqn 212 (Malaya), and agreed the allocation of some air and ground crew, seconded from RAF 36 and 100 Sqns to help train the volunteers on the 6 Vildebeest Mk III torpedo bombers that had arrived with the convoy.

RAF Squadron, 212 (Malay), was to be funded by the Malay states, and manned by volunteer pilots and ground crew, with the afore mentioned help. The volunteer pilots were older members of the Malayan Volunteer Air Force, continuing in their civilian jobs, with mostly weekend service with the RAF. The ground crew were newly training Chinese, with the potential of transferring to the RAF on completion of their training, to a full-time job. The squadron was to be broken down into flights based in Western Malaya, at Penang, Port Swettenham & Singapore, initially formed of the 6 aircraft, but growing to a target of 12 + 6 reserves. Used for Maritime Patrol and ASW, depth charge armed, but not torpedo trained, the aircraft used were surplus Vildebeest. Extra aircraft would be sent from the UK or Middle East, including Vickers Vincent’s, as they were all being modified to carry up to eight 100 lb depth charges, their torpedo capabilities being removed.

Also, with the convoy had come RAF 226 Sqn with 20 Fairey Battle Mk II’s, again needing some reassembling out of the crates they had been housed in. 226 Sqn was being based at Tengah, the men already barracked there, and like Kallang, a trickle of aircraft would soon be flown into them. A complication was the extensive work going on at Tengah, as a runway was being rebuilt in concrete, making flying difficult. He was being told they needed another couple of months, and even then, all the pens, dispersal areas, hangers and work shed, along with more accommodation, wouldn’t be completed.

There were so many new aircraft joining the command, indeed, Seletar was a veritable factory of aircraft construction, they had 6 Battle Target Tugs to work on as well. The Tugs were for 4 AACU replacing the eight Swordfish, and joining the Sharks and Queen Bees, they would provide a more realistic target speed for the AA guns. But with the conversion of one grass runway to a 1250 yard long, hard one, he’d had to limit the flying and so had moved 4 AACU to join RAF 27 Sqn at Sembawang.

Which brought him onto 27 Sqn, which had arrived from India in February, equipped with Blenheim Mk IF aircraft. They had been fitted with a special gun pack of four 0.303 machine guns under the fuselage, and transformed from a light bomber into a long-range fighter. He loved the range but wasn’t impressed with the idea of them mixing it with a single seater fighter. And just as important, a lot of the air crew, weren’t happy with the transformation into fighters either. If he was going to use them as a fighter squadron, he’d need to transfer a number of air crew.

But the thing that did excite him was the arrival of a trio of RAF officers in February, Wing Commander Pearce, and Squadron Leader’s Carter and Roberts, experts in the new field of radar, and the arrival of a number of AMES units in the recent convoy. Park was under no illusion as to the importance of a good radar network. Pearce would be his Radar CO, Roberts would identify and develop suitable sites, while Carter had already started forming a RIMU (Radio Installation & Maintenance Unit), the parent unit for the AMES, with a borrowed shed at Seletar, awaiting the building of his own facilities. Park had already discussed all this with the Executive Committee, and the radar stations would be getting the highest priority in resources, as he was very keen on their early installation.

The seven AMES units, COLs 511, 512, 513 & 514, MRU 250 and TRU’s 243 and 244 were the first radar units to arrive, but more would be needed to provide a decent early warning and interception network for Malaya & Singapore. 513, 514 and 244 had originally been earmarked for West Africa, while others promised for secondary theatres elsewhere, would also have to be diverted to Malaya. Park would initially focus on defending the major ports of Singapore and Penang, but he recognised the urgent need to cover the north east coast as well.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Friday 21 March;

The Japanese Army Air Force pilot carefully lined up the Mitsubishi Ki-21 heavy bomber with the runway and brought her down, in an almost perfect landing, before taxing the aircraft along a guided path, to come to a stop on a hard standing. With the engines now off, he quickly went through his post flight checks, before climbing out of the aircraft. To the left of the bomber, arranged in a smart line, stood the other eight bombers, their pilots, all clad in Mitsubishi Aircraft Manufacturers clothing, waiting to greet him. With that quickly done, they formed up as on a parade ground, allowing a Japanese Army Air Force Major to present the planes and crews to the Thai Air Force Colonel.

In the distance, another twelve KI-21’s could be seen, already painted in the livery of the Thai Air Force, along with ten Ki-27 fighters. These had been delivered back in December last year, the first part of a sales contract negotiated between Japan and Thailand. Previously the USA had been Thailand’s main supplier, but the deal the Japanese had offered, had been more than a good price, and the Japanese had generously offered to train the pilots and aircrew at almost cost price.

Training would be given here at Don Mueang airfield, which lay just outside Bangkok, and was the country’s premier air base, and, in addition, this would be where the spare parts, and ammunition would be stored. The major headed the small, but experienced team of trainers, who provide not just simply operational conversion training for the Thai crews, but also cover firing, bombing and navigation practices as well. Indeed, another small team of Japanese airmen had visited every airfield in Thailand, to provide them with an extensive review of what airfields were suitable for operating the Ki-21 bombers, and what weren’t.

With these sales, and the establishment of a regular civil airline service between Bangkok and Tokyo, the Japanese were preparing the ground, in anticipation of a hoped-for military alliance. It was certainly forging bonds between Japanese and Thai Air Force officers, as well as an appreciation for the Japanese, of what operating in Thailand was like.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Monday 24 March;

It was seventh on the agenda, but some of the preceding items were merely updates, so they had worked down to it quite quickly. Fortress Penang, from a military point of view, had to provide a secure anchorage for convoys assembling to cross the Indian Ocean, safe from air and sea attack. However, Penang was so much more than that.

There was the economical factor, with a number of significant banks and mercantile firms, the industries of smelting and exporting of tin, a strong base of light industries on Penang Island, and in Province Wellesley, opposite on the mainland, the Perai port and railway connection with its train workshops. There was the communications factor, the undersea telegraph cables from India, landed here, the radio station in Georgetown, the civil airfield. And then there was the intellectual factor, her schools were among the best in Malaya, she was thought of as the cultural capital, and attracted a lot of internationally famous people, and the fact Penang’s newspapers rivalled those in Singapore.

In part for the people of Penang, and in part for propaganda purposes, they spoke of Fortress Penang, but there was no fort, just strategically placed military assets. Never the less, at this Monday meeting of the Executive they were intending to discuss what they could each commit and agree in principle, to the deployment of some considerable assets, to provide a well-rounded defence.

For the Army, Penang Fortress was administrated as a brigade, with a garrison of one Indian infantry battalion, a Straits Settlement machine gun battalion, and the 11th Coastal Regt RA of three coastal batteries. In the south was the Batu Maung battery, of two 6-inch guns, and at the other end of the Penang Straits was the Fort Cornwallis battery, with another two 6-inch guns. While further to the north-west was Fort Auchry, where they planned to install two 9.2-inch guns, which would come from Hong Kong. They still needed light artillery to provide an anti MTB element to the defence of the anchorage. Adding to that, one of the new raising Indian HAA regiments would provide anti-aircraft cover. In addition, it was hoped a couple of the newly raised Malay and/or Singapore infantry companies could be based here.

For the RAF, the airfield at Bayan Lepas, would be developed. It currently had a training flight of the MVAF, and would soon have a flight of the newly formed RAF 212 (Malay) Sqn, with up to six Vildebeest for maritime and ASW patrol. Park wanted to have at least one fighter squadron here if he could. This all meant extensive development of the facilities, with more buildings, maintenance sheds, dispersal pens etc being built. And he also planned for the installation of radar units, one COL at Bukit Hama, on the northern edge of Penang Island, and a second in the south, along with a couple of TRU’s, one on Western Hill served by the funicular railway, and the other to be situated on Kedah Peak, Gurun. These would link in with a new control room at Glugor, where the Army HQ was, with telephone connections to the airfields at Bayan Lepas, Butterworth, Sungai Petani and Alor Star. Only two AMES units were available at the moment, but some station infrastructure would be built, awaiting the arrival of the other units.

And lastly for the Royal Navy, who had elevated the station to a Squadron status, to defend and service the port, an Ocean tug and an Oiler would be made available. There was planned to have a flotilla of MTBs but as yet no date could be given, so some Fairmile launches would be deployed for local inshore patrols, when built. To protect shipping lanes to the port a number of auxiliary minesweepers would be based here, as well as some auxiliary ASW patrol vessels. Part of the Indian Ocean escort force would stop here, allowing local vessels to take over much of the role for escorted shipping, although a lot of independent sailings would still continue.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941 Wednesday 26 March;

Major General Arthur Barstow, commander of the 9th Indian Division stood by the window of his third-floor hotel room, and looked down Coleman Street. The bells at St Andrews Cathedral had just rung 11pm, and he was ready for bed. His case had been unpacked by his batman while he’d been dinning with Percival, his commander, who’d had him picked up from the ship, and brought him here. Percival certainly didn’t impress, looks wise, but as they’d talked through dinner, most of it a kind of catch up on what was happening, he’d began to appreciate another side of the man. While he had some humorous anecdotes, he also been able to paint quite a revealing picture of Singapore and Malaya.

Tomorrow would be more formal, with Lord Gort, as well as Percival, and they would discuss in some detail not only the role of his 9th Division, but also its composition, as there would be some swapping of brigades and battalions. The convoy had delivered his first brigade, the 15th to Penang and Singapore, but Percival had already told him he would lose it to the 11th Division, and take their 8th Brigade in its place. His second brigade, the 22th was due about the 16th of next month. And it sounded like his division would be split up and assigned defensive roles up and down the eastern coast of Malaya. His HQ was going to take over the buildings in Kuala Lumpur, where currently 11th Indian Division HQ was, as they were moving north.

For now, he would only have the two brigades, but Percival hoped to get him a third brigade by the summer. Artillery of any type or size was almost non-existent, and the infantry battalions in his command were very raw, all units having been milked a number of times of experienced officers and men, replaced with barely trained new recruits. He already knew training would be a major priority, but Percival had told him the beach defences he would be taking over, were mostly not even built yet!

A number of Indian State infantry battalions had also arrived, and he might get a couple of them, but they were only good for rear area static defence, being lightly armed and poorly trained. Yes, he had a lot to do by the look of it, but he’d get right on it first thing tomorrow, he wasn’t called Bustling Bill for nothing!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, 27 March

The talks were held with total secrecy in Washington, daily, between the 29th January to the 27th March, either in plenary session or broken down into relevant committees. Leading the British delegation was Rear Admiral Bellairs, while the American delegation was led by Rear Admiral Ghormly and Major General Embick

The war, from a British perspective, was looking quite bleak, and seemed to be growing so. What the British most wanted to secure from the United States was commitments to military cooperation, and a joint military strategy, with Germany First, at the top of its agenda. This, Churchill was most adamant about, and the CoS were in line with that.

On the American side, Roosevelt’s military commanders had already expressed their concerns to him about Germany becoming too powerful, and its defeat should be their primary goal, Britain’s efforts to have this point agreed was pushing at an opened door. However, with promises made during a presidential election late last year, commitments were hard to give, as Roosevelt walked the high wire between peaceful cooperation and embroiling the USA into another European war.

However, the talks were much more than just that, with an impressive detail over a whole range of subjects, all planned to either become the de facto arrangement, or an agreement on how things would be conducted, upon the United States entering the war. Much of the detail was worked out quite harmoniously, although at times things had become quite intense, indeed, bruising, an example being the Americans making it crystal clear they would not be moving ships to Singapore, to protect the British Empire.

The differences over the Far East and Singapore were never going to allow the talks to break down, both sides had too much political capital invested, the Americans had to keep Britain in the war, a German dominated Europe was unthinkable, and that meant securing the Atlantic lifeline, while the British were desperate to get the United States on board, and the Far East was, after all, just a risk of war, and one that Churchill was prepared to take.

The quandary the British were in; was that they desperately needed help in the North Atlantic, but at the same time, were looking for the US Navy to be the deterrent against Japan. The grievous merchant ship losses in the Atlantic were something Britain couldn’t sustain, and from the American view, this had to be addressed quite urgently, if Britain was to remain in the war. And not only were the losses due to submarines, mines and aircraft attack, climbing, with the French Atlantic ports in German hands, so German surface warships were now posing a problem. The expectation was things would get worse, the Germans had nearly made repairs to all the ships damaged in the Norwegian campaign, and would soon be commissioning two new Bismarck battleships along with another heavy cruiser.

On reflection, the British, if anything, overplayed their hand with regard to help in the North Atlantic and they had been given more US help than they might have anticipated. However, this left the Pacific fleet weaker, and with their refusal to move to Singapore, created a need for a substantial British force in the Far East. Indeed, the Americans were saying, by providing more capital ships of their own in the Atlantic, surely the British could now release battleships for the Far East. When the British planners explored this idea, the idea that emerged, was of a battlefleet based around Nelson and Rodney, supported by three of the R’s, and Force H, the battle cruiser Renown, and aircraft carrier Ark Royal. Assembling this force would take time however, firstly on when the US major naval units could be deployed, and on the repair and refit of the British ones.

Overall, the ABC talks had been a watershed for the British, a great success, with many far-reaching agreements, endorsing the principle of blockade, a maximum air offensive against Germany, the early elimination of Italy, and above all the principal of Germany First, but with regard to defence of the Far East it was a strategic failure. They lost the opportunity for greater co-operation with the United States in the Far East theatre, which would now devolve into almost a ‘look after your own patch’ philosophy, they had caused the US to weakened the Pacific fleet, and hence its deterrence effect on the Japanese, while on the other hand they had the promises of more than they could want, in the Atlantic, most of which they couldn’t use unless the United States entered the war. It was a mistake that would come back and bite them!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Thursday 27 March;

The campaign in East Africa was going Britain’s way, after the loss of British Somaliland, and incursions into Sudan and Kenya in 1940, the Italians had halted, content to hold what they had, but allowing the British to slowly build their strength up, and now with 1941 arriving the British attacked. They had three divisions in the south under Lt Gen Alan Cunningham, the 1st South African Div, the 11th and 12th African divisions. And in the north, under Lt Gen William Platt, two divisions, the 4th and 5th Indian. And they were beginning to crumble away at the defences of the Italian East African colony.

In the south, it was a campaign of fast manoeuvre, the terrain, mostly hot, arid, desert like, allowed for that, the Italian forces, mostly colonial, often melting away before them. But in the north, the numerous granite mountains wouldn’t allow that fast pace. No, here it was a war of the infantryman, backed up by artillery, and as always logistics, which dominated the campaign on both fronts. And here, at Keren, the gateway to Asmara, the capital of the Italian Eritrea, the Italian had deployed their best troops.

The British were attacking from Kassala, a town in Sudan to the west, through which ran the railway line from Khartoum to Port Sudan. From the logistical bridgehead there, a road ran east through Agordat which they had captured at the end of January. There a railway as well as the road ran on to Asmara and its port of Massawa, but Keren sat in the way. Long identified as of strategic importance to the defence of Asmara, the Italians had built a fort, Dologorodoc, on a mountain, on the southeast side of the narrow Dongolaas Gorge, through which the road and railway passed into Keren. The Italians had also occupied positions on the mountains on the other side. From artillery observation posts up high, their artillery could control the pass. The key to breaking the defences was capturing the OP’s.

Because of the terrain, the fighting was difficult, the 11th Indian Brigade was first to try, starting on the 5th of February, attacking the mountain tops on the north-western side of the gorge, who, over the next four days, managed to capture Cameron ridge, which they then used as a jumping off point to assault Brig’s Peak. They were counter attacked by Italian infantrymen of the 65th Division "Granatieri di Savoia" who threw them back. While this was happening, the Indian 5th Brigade had attacked Fort Dologorodoc across ‘happy valley’, also having little success.

The next attack went in from the 10th to 13th, the 3/1 Punjab Regt capturing both Brig’s Peak and Mt Sanchil, but after heavy shelling, they were forced off by a counter attack from the Savoy Grenadiers again. Losses were heavy, and little to show for it, so Platt decided to pause, regroup and train before trying again.

Given the natural strength of the position, and the Italians commitment to its defence, Platt decided he would need to attack using both Indian Divisions, which would take time to prepare. In the meantime, to keep the Italians on their toes, numerous small probing patrols were made around both flanks, but no alternative line of attack could be found. While time was spent bringing both supplies and munitions forward from Kassala, Platt planned his attack, deciding that 4th Indian Division would attack Brig’s Peak and Mt Sanchil on the left, 5th Indian Division would attack Fort Dologorodoc and Mt Zeban on the right, or south. To maximise artillery support, 4th Indian would attack first, and once her objectives were secured, the artillery would switch targets and support the 5th Indian’s attack. The date of the attack was set for the 15th March.

4th Indian attacked first at dawn, progress was slow, with mounting casualties, but some success was had, causing the Italians to mount costly counterattacks of their own. This attractional battle continued for several days, as all the reserves were gradually fed in, with 4th Indian not making any further progress, but tying up large numbers of defenders.

Mid-morning on the 15th, 5th Indian attacked, and also spent all day achieving little, pinned down, but that night the attacking troops were replaced by fresh troops which first captured two minor hills in front of Fort Dologorodoc, and while they were fighting off counter attacks from the fort defenders, an assault on the fort itself by 2 West Yorkshire Regt took an alternative route and successfully captured it after a short savage fight. This gave General Platt a much-coveted artillery observation point, which allowed British artillery to become more effective. The Italian reaction was vicious, repeated counter attacks were beaten back over several days on both sides of the gorge, the two Indian divisions hanging onto what they had.

On the nights of 16/17 and 17/18, Indian Engineers attempted to begin clearing the road blocks in the gorge, but failed, suffering from steady Italian defensive fire. However, on the floor of the gorge it became clear to General Heath that the key Italian defensive positions were on low hills either side of the gorge, called the ‘Railway Bumps’ and not Mt Sanchil, as had been thought. The British now assumed a more defensive posture, holding what they had, while they reorganized for a further attack along the gorge.

The night of the 24/25 they attacked again, the lower hills on the southern side being taken first and then the northern ones falling by mid-morning. Predictably, the Italians counter attacked, but these were easily beaten off. With control of the ‘Railway Bumps’, the sappers got to work clearing the gorge of roadblocks and mines, rotating all three Field Engineer Companies of 5th Division, to provide 24 hours working. By the end of the 26th, the road was clear, and with the British artillery switched to fire on reserve fortifications, an Indian infantry brigade attacked along the gorge. The Italians broke, and with what troops that could, fled towards Asmara, but much of what was left of the Savoy Grenadiers Division, their best troops, were left cut off and with no prospect of escape, low on supplies, surrendered.

The Indian troops had fought very well in the victory, any suggestion that they might be second class was well answered here, two of them, Premindra Singh Bhagat (Royal Bombay Sappers and Miners) and Richhpal Ram (Subedar in 6th Rajputana Rifles), posthumously, awarded the Victoria Cross. There were many others given medals, mentioned in despatches, or simply noted for promotions, take for instance, Naik Gurpreet Dhillon 4/11 Sikh Regt, who suffered bad lacerations and a broken leg, when blown off a hillside by a shell, on the same day Richhpal Ram won his VC. And Havildar Asif Khan 4/10 Baluch Regt, wounded in the back and buttocks by rock fragments from a mortar shell burst as he led an assault on one of the ‘Railway Bumps’. Or Subedar Abdur Choudhury 2 Field Coy Bengal S&M, half buried under falling rock while helping clear the gorge for the final push.

The capture of Keren quickly led to the fall of Asmara and Massawa, with Italian morale badly shaken, and ultimately the fall of the Italian East African colonies, terrain and logistics becoming the major obstacles to an earlier surrender. British and Indian casualties were high, especially in 4th Indian Division, although there were a lot more wounded than killed, flying rock fragments contributing greatly to the injuries. Both divisions would go on to fight in many more battles and campaigns, while both their commanders, Noel Beresford-Peirse of 4th Indian, and Lewis Heath of 5th Indian, as well as the southern commander Alan Cunningham, would gain promotions thanks to their achievements in this campaign.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Friday 28 March;

It had been coming for some time now, and the old proverb, “give him enough rope and he’ll hang himself” had finally proved right. Caldecott had been at pains to explain what he wanted, even detailing it in a letter to the Colonial Secretary, but old ‘Starchy’ couldn’t help himself. His ability to procrastinate, was legendary, and he was universally hated for it, but as yet Caldecott had been unable to move him out of office.

It all came to a head in a meeting on the Monday, with the Sultan of one of the Un-Federated States. The Governor had been quietly working behind the scenes to expedite the purchase of some land for a new army camp from the Sultan, the both of them reaching an understanding of how it could be done with little fuss. This meeting was just the formality of signatures and agreement of payment dates, when Stanley Jones, Colonial Secretary, pointed out, quite insistently that due notice of the sale wasn’t being given, not allowing any petitions to be raised against it.

Jones formal disproval had sunk the deal, the Sultan fearing public exposure, and criticism from his subjects of being a pawn of the British, had withdrawn from the deal, and as a consequence Caldecott estimated it would take about four months, if everything went well, for the purchase to go ahead, assuming there were no petitions, and that was a big ask!

Later, when Caldecott got Jones alone, and he demanded to know why he had acted in such a way, Jones had taken a sacrosanct view of maintaining standards and following the process strictly to the letter. Caldecott was furious, and had latter that day, cabled the Colonial Office in London, complaining about Jones and requesting his removal. The mandarins in London couldn’t see the problem, Jones was following the process, and had advised Caldecott of that, which in their eyes, was the very correct thing to do.

But Caldecott didn’t let it rest there, and discussed it further, with his friend Lord Gort, who, the following morning, sent a cable to the War Office, and more importantly to General Dill, complaining about the delay in setting up much needed army camps, due to civil government red tape. On the Wednesday, Dill had taken great delight in just dropping a disappointing note over the length of time it took to purchase new land military use in Malaya, embedded deep in his report at the next JCS meeting with Churchill, who, ever on the lookout for inefficiency or waste, quickly seized on it and began demanding answers. Dill was able to redirect the questions levelled at him onto the Colonial Office, who quickly became uncomfortable about the scrutiny Churchill was beginning to place on them.

By Friday 28th March, it was all over, a cable was sent to Caldecott, giving him the authority, and at 11am, he was able to formally dismiss Jones, who was to return to the UK, and for Caldecott to name a temporary replacement. Caldecott chose and it was later accepted that Hugh Fraser, currently Federal Secretary of the Federated Malay States, and the main agent in the setting up the land purchase deal with the Sultan, would be the new Colonial Secretary. With Jones gone, and Fraser installed, Caldecott felt he could make headway in changing the attitude of the Malayan Civil Service, towards a more responsive and helpful form of government.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Saturday 29 March;

The old rusty tramp steamer, Georg Sibbern, dropped anchor in the roads off Keppel Harbour to await a quayside berth, its Norwegian flag occasionally fluttering in a dying breeze, the heat of the midday sun beating down on her. She had completed an uneventful voyage from Vancouver, Canada, enroute she had stopped in Hong Kong, and picked up half a dozen British Forces personnel, two of whom were promoted to new roles in India, three to the OCTU in Singapore, and a sixth being invalided out, back to the UK.

She was one of a number of tramp steamers chartered by the Canadian Government, for a series of voyages to Singapore, further proof of their commitment to contributing to the defence of Malaya. In her holds were Canadian built light and medium trucks, assorted steel products, cement, telephone wire and other basic war material. All to feed the hungry demands of the developing defences. Her captain expected they would be turned around in about four to five days, rubber and tin would part-fill his holds on the return voyage.

Keppel Roads was busy, numerous ships at anchor, some like the Georg Sibbern awaiting a wharf to become free to unload at, while others had already been unloaded, and such was the custom in Singapore, that they were then returned back into the Roads, and were loaded by the swarm of Chinese manned lighters, which ferried their cargo from the godowns located deep in the Singapore river, tin ingots and rubber being major exports.

For the Singapore Harbour Board, the rising flow of war materials was an ever-increasing challenge. To continue quick ship turnaround was taking some considerable planning now, as always, the bottleneck was the unloading at the wharfs. Some investment was being made on improving rail sidings, providing more and different goods wagons, extending godown’s, and improved training of stevedores on handling specific special loads.

The Board employed directly and indirectly about 11,000, the officers and staff comprised 120 Europeans and approximately 1,900 Eurasians, Chinese, Indians and Malays, but there were over 4,000 wharf coolies and over 5,000 skilled artisans of trades, their assistants, and labourers in the Dockyard Department. The Singapore Harbour Board also had a dedicated police force and fire brigade.

In addition, the port offered superb ship repair facilities, with two dry docks, Victoria and Albert, both just under 500ft long, on the eastern side, and on the western side another three, No.1, at 400ft, No.2, at 460ft and the enormous Kings Dock, built in 1913 to Admiralty specifications at 879ft, which had been the forerunner for servicing ships of the Royal Navy before the building of the Naval Base on the other side of the island, complete with its own King George VI graving dock.

Pre-war, it had been mostly oil tankers, which serviced the oil refineries and farms of the area, as the main customers, but increasingly, war work had brought other ships in. Now there was always a few ships anchored in the Roads, awaiting their turn in one of these dry docks. Yes, Singapore was a very busy port!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Monday 31 March;

The Chiefs meeting with Churchill this morning hadn’t gone particularly well for Air Marshal Portal so far, Bomber Command’s numbers weren’t growing quickly enough, and the results of their raids were very disappointing. Fighter Command had conducted a number of ‘Circus’ Operations, also with little effect, and he’d only just recently saved Coastal Command from disbandment, by agreeing to give operational control over to the Admiralty.

He’d already made some recovery in Churchill’s eyes, promising to transfer a couple of squadrons of Hurricanes to Malta, but now came his chance to turn the day around, as the agenda moved onto the Far East. He started out with a little history lesson, as to how the Far East had come to be given the Brewster Buffalo, owing to its poor performance compared to European fighters. And how events over Northern France in the Circus or Rhubarb operations were exposing the inadequacies of the Hurricane. Home defence was now secured, at least for the foreseeable future, with over seventy-five daylight fighter squadrons, with more planned, and the future in Europe was the Spitfire

However, he said, the Hurricane was an industrial production success, being of relatively simple construction, and ease of manufacturing, it was costing only two thirds of the price of a Spitfire. Furthermore, this also meant repairs could in many cases be conducted in squadron workshops, while its ability to operate on more primitive airfields made it easier to deploy.

With this in mind, and the increase in production, with the Canadian Car and Foundry in Ontario now producing Hurricanes, he proposed that the Far East fighter squadrons be equipped with the Hurricane. And to help with shipping demands, he proposed they be equipped from Canada, shipped out of Vancouver, where there was no need of convoys, allowing a more efficient delivery. They would have to have their Merlin XX engines still sent from the UK, but Portal thought he’d let that slip by for now. It would also placate Park out in Singapore, who was in danger of becoming troublesome, as well as Lord Gort, demonstrating the RAF’s commitment to Far East defence.

He then followed that up with painting a picture of a strategic reserve for the Middle East, trained and held in the Far East, using the newly forming Article XV squadrons. He thought they might be able to start deliveries in June. In addition, he thought he would be able to spare an RAF Hurricane Wing in the summer, taking into account of the number of planned squadrons they had coming through. Even before he had finished talking, he knew he had Churchill on side, in part because of the plan, and in part because of a bit of lobbying from Lord Beaverbrook, who he’d spoken to on Saturday night.

But Portel was still new to this game, and the wily old fox Pound had stolen some of his glory, when he mentioned the now redundant Buffalo’s. Portal had already outlined how the surplus Buffalos could be used for home defence squadrons in India and Australia, but Pound had suggested a few, say 20 could be donated to the FAA, converted to carrier operations, and a fighter squadron raised with newly trained Dominion pilots around a small cadre, which could be deployed on HMS Hermes, thereby giving the Eastern Fleet a protective CAP when at sea. At the same time, they and a second newly raised TSR squadron of Swordfish, once trained, could help create a small FAA strategic reserve, allowing the Fleet to draw replacement crews from, for operations in the Eastern Mediterranean. Churchill, as always, warming to any attack minded gesture, grunted his approval.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Wednesday 02 April;

It was turning into a very busy day for HMS Barlight, just past midday, and she’d already opened the boom four times today. A small fleet of fishing junks at dawn, then the big British cargo ship Glenapp, leaving for Singapore, later the arrival of the Norwegian cargo ship Siljestad from Osaka, Japan, and then there had been the return of HMS Regulus from another patrol. Surfacing at dawn, at a pre designated point, she’d been met by the patrol craft HMS Indira, and escorted into harbour, her replacement, HMS Rover, had left two days earlier, and was now no doubt on the first leg of her patrol.

The gate and anti-submarine boom across the Tathong Channel had been in operation since November 1939, when the Admiralty put the harbour on a war footing. This was now the only official way into Hong Kong and the protected waters of Victoria Harbour, any other route used, did so in peril of mines and coastal guns.

Considerable expense had been made to provide for a state-of-the-art seaward defence in the mid to late 1930’s, to supplement the coastal guns. Firstly, a series of Indicator Loops had been laid to detect any submerged submarines, laid on the sea bed in shallow waters, not deeper that 16 fathoms at low tide. These were three single core copper, waterproof, armoured cables laid about 200 yards apart in parallel lines, running on average about 5,000 yards, but could be longer. At the far end the two outer cables looped in and were connected to the middle cable in a waterproof junction box, the same was repeated at the other end, except the three legs were each connected to one core of a four-core cable, known as the ‘tail’. This cable ran back to shore, in Tai Tam Bay, terminating in the Loop Control Hut, which was located below Stanley Fort.

Any passing ship or submarine inducted a small current in the cables below due to its magnetism, which despite degassing, would still be present. This could be detected by a
galvanometer, which can measure small amounts of current, and thus provided a warning. Honk Kong had eight of these loops deployed, overlapping, running from Lantau Island in the west, curving down south of Lamma Island, Po Toi Island and then sweeping up to Basalt Island, providing a warning of any submerged submarine approaching Hong Kong.

Inside of these were the minefields, both contact and controlled. Laid contact minefields were Mk XIV mines laid between four and sixteen feet deep, in such numbers that effectively closed those waters to any passage. The North Lantau channel minefield was laid across a similar line to how the Tuen Mun-Chek Lap Kok Link (TM – CLKL) road tunnel takes now. The West Lamma channel minefield ran from the northwest corner of Lamma Island across to Hei Ling Chau Island, and then again onto Lantau Island.

Another two, smaller ones were laid, one between Round Island, in the East Lamma channel, and Chung Hom Kok peninsula on Hong Kong Island, and the other sealing off the mouth of Tai Tam Bay. Further contact minefields were laid sealing Port Shelter and Mirs Bays, designed to stop any amphibious assault on the New Territories from the east. Pre-war incursions into the minefields were infrequent but deadly, and like all minefields, there was always the danger of a mine breaking free of its anchor and becoming a hazard, especially after Hong Kong had been visited by a typhoon, the one on the 30th June 1941 being a bad case in point.

The other type of minefield was the controlled one, these mines didn’t have any contact horns, were detonated remotely from shore. Each mine was anchored off the sea bed, with an electrical cable running from it to a waterproof junction box, on the sea bed, each box having a number of mines radiating away from it. From the junction box another cable ran back onshore to the mine control stations, two of them, one on the small Chung Hom Kok peninsula, controlling the East Lamma Channel mines, the other at Shek-O, on the D’Aguilar peninsula, controlling the Tathong Channel mines. Attached to each mine was a coloured float, which provided a visual whereabouts, enabling the Control Station to detonate the correct mine, if a ship sailed close by.

But they had to be maintained, drifting mines recovered or destroyed, while both the indicator loops and controlled minefield cables could become faulty necessitating repair. And that was what was happening now, as HMS Redstart, a purpose-built Linnet class "Indicator Loop Mine Layer" was about to do, as she waited, while Barlight opened the boom gate yet again. An indicator loop had gone down, the cable damaged, when a tug towing a target for the coastal guns had inadvertently fouled a cable.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Friday 04 April;

They stood on parade, in line, two deep, pith helmets, khaki shirt, shorts and long woollen socks, brown leather belt and shoes, polished to a lovely shine. Twenty-eight of them, passing out as lieutenants, their six-week officers’ course now complete, here at Roberts barracks, Singapore. General Percival himself, no less, had come down to see them, present them with their commissions, and praise them on answering the call to arms. For these weren’t conscripts, they were all over 40 years old, volunteers to a part time role, until war might break out.

Gentlemen they were, had done their bit in the war to end all wars, and having survived that, had put it behind them and become successful business men, managers, bankers, accountants, in all manner of careers. They were already enrolled in the local volunteers, and could have remained, doing their bit, in that role, in one of the Straits Settlement Volunteer Force machine gun companies. But that duty to one’s King and Country held strong, their values, beliefs, and a sense of right, dictated that they would serve again, abet in somewhat different circumstances, and so they were here. The armed forces were short of officers, and these men would help alleviate that problem.

Military discipline had already been instilled in them, and they weren’t being asked to serve in any frontline units, but provide that level of British authority required in all manner of support units in the RAOC, RASC, coastal and AA fixed defences, and other such like including Percival’s own Malaya Command HQ. What often was needed was a
figurehead, a person who could make a decision, take responsibility, but have the sense to be guided by the professional NCOs and warrant officers they might work with.

William Steel was one such person, 48 years old, he’d served in the Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders in the last war, but was now a manager for Eastern Bank LTD. His uniform was somewhat tight around his girth, but nevertheless he was a fine figure of a man, in the eyes of his wife Mary, who sat in the small sheltered stand erected for this occasion, only thirty feet away from Percival, who stood in front of the paraded men, each officer being called by name to step forward and receive his letter of commission, along with a strong handshake, and a few words of congratulations.

Afterwards, there was a nice little sherry party, with Percival and a couple of other senior officers mingling about, allowing the newly made officers to present their family members, creating a lasting memory of how valued each new officer was. Then with the party finished, each officer was given a sealed envelope with his posting inside, but it wasn’t until Bill and Mary had returned home to their bungalow on the outskirts of Singapore, that he opened it to find out he was to report to the 1st Indian HAA Regt, on Monday as a supernumerary. He, like the others would be required to serve for two weeks in their unit, before returning their civilian occupations, and then serving for one day a week, or on an occasional weekend exercise.

Another 28 men would begin their course on Monday, over half of these from Hong Kong, under the same circumstances, the course running alongside the normal Officer cadet training courses, while similar programs were being run by both the RAF and Royal Navy.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Saturday 05 April;

The crew of HMS Regent stood in silence, swaying with the motion of the submarine. No words were spoken, hand gestures only, as they worked under silent running. Faintly the crew heard the ping of a sonar, and again, eyes looking at crewmates, seeing the sweat on their faces. In the Hydrophone office, a cupboard with a curtain as a door, barely big enough for the equipment and the operator to fit in, sat Leading Telegraphist Daws whispering to Acting Lieutenant O’Neil, hunched next to him. “Another contact sir, closing, direction 273 degrees, single screw” O’Neil looked up, along the passageway into the control room, and spoke quietly, in a slow clear voice, that carried well, repeating Daws.

Lt Cmdr Knox paused for a moment, made a mental calculation, then whispered “Port helmsman, come to 90 degrees, steady at 4 knots, plot that please Henry” looking at his navigation officer, Lt Henry Jones, bent over the plotting table, pencil and ruler busy. Knox looked over his shoulder. The destroyer lay somewhere to their starboard side, about 170 degrees, and was providing the sonar contact, while this new ship made an attack.

Now the crew began to hear the vessel approaching, the regularity of the single screw thrashing through the sea. O’Neil spoke again, relaying Daws, “distance about 600 yards, estimates speed about 10 knots”. Knox looked at his helmsman, “steady as she goes”. O’Neil again, “400 yards, holding course”. The tension was in them all, a sailor coughed, and was given dagger looks. O’Neil, “200 yards, holding course, 10 knots” Knox took a deep breath, “Hard Port helmsman, full speed, come to 350 degrees, down 60 feet to 200 feet” The control room sprang into action, with quite efficacy as everyone did their bit.

On the surface, the attacking ship’s crew stood ready, awaiting the order, as the officer counted down, slowly raising his arm. Down went the arm, the order shouted out, and the depth charge crew pulled the release lever. On the destroyer, the contact had been lost, and the captain was already ordering a turn to port.

The noise of the screw above became deafening, and then noticeably started to draw away. “350 degrees, 200 feet at 8 knots sir” softly spoke the helmsman. “OK reduce speed, 4 knots” replied Knox. The crew looked at each other, small smiles on their lips, the “old man” had done it again.

On the surface, Lt Cmdr Davies, Thanet’s captain, smiled and turned to his number one, “Regent’s done it again, begin a new search pattern, signal Kampar “Never mind, better luck next time” and then signal Mata Hari it’s her turn next.” The two auxiliary patrol ships had recently been upgraded, with a small ASDIC and depth charge racks added to the existing armament of one old 4-inch gun and two Lewis guns mounted on the bridge wings. Their crew’s initial enthusiasm was now being tempered by the reality of the limitations of ASDIC, but nevertheless it was a lot more exhilarating on anti-submarine training than a normal patrol beat. Furthermore, they had the rest of the afternoon to exercise, before returning to Penang, and with tomorrow being Sunday, a day off.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Monday 07 April;

Keith Park was not in a good mood; he was not looking forward to the executive meeting. The frank discussions he would have with Admiral Layton and Lord Gort about the behaviour of his command would be at best uncomfortable. He was confident they would be supportive of him in the General Council meeting, but he hated the idea that they might question his competency.

He was angry at the attitude of too many in his command, who seemed to have forgotten that there was a war on, didn’t take things seriously and treated the posting here as some sort of a holiday camp, a chance to have a lark. Well, they’d bloody well gone too far this time, and the whole command was going to see a side to him they didn’t know existed. He’d been too nice with them, accepting their inexperience as a reason for poor discipline.

It beggared belief, Friday afternoon, Sqn Leader Hackett, CO of 27 squadron, had led a Vic of three Blenheim’s in some impromptu display of aircraft capabilities, culminating in a formation loop, only to stall and go into spin which he didn’t recover from. Not only had both he and his radio operator died, but so did his guest, a fighter pilot from 243 squadron, who’d managed to bail out only to be struck by one of the propellers. Quite what flying loop formations had to do with fighting the war, Park didn’t know, but he was going to be very clear to all from now on, the Command’s business would be preparing for war, and not some carnival air show!

And then to only make matters worse, the next day, a mooring vessel, HMS Buffalo, an old tug, had hit a mine while trying to recover the Blenheim and the bodies of its crew. Again, the commander of the tug, had been persuaded to turn a simple task into some kind of a party, taking twenty-five personnel from 151 Maintenance Unit, out for a jaunt, hadn’t taken navigating around controlled minefield No 3 seriously, cutting a corner, and at the last count, including the crew, 32 were killed or missing, with another 25 injured.

It also reinforced his belief that there was only so much that could be done with the hostilities only, reservists and recalled retired officers under his command, that he desperately needed some senior experienced professional commanders to lead his planned air groups. He only hoped that Portal would be as good as his word in keeping his promise to give him some talented officers, but he had been promised Hurricanes, and should start receiving them in June.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Monday 07 April;

It had been coming some time, indeed ever since Percival had watched Stewart’s Argyll & Sutherland Highlanders shred the defences of Singapore’s Garrison in an exercise, he’d known the command needed more than just general training, it needed training for the theatre it was in, it needed jungle training! As always money was a problem, the War Office was loath to sanction yet more expense, in such a backwater, but with both Lord Gort’s backing and then Dill’s support in London, Percival had finally been given the green light last month, with funds being authorised.

Finding a location for the camp, had given him some concerns, all the good land, was either already in use, far too expensive to buy, or would take forever to get authorisation from the relevant civil authorities for a compulsory purchase agreement. But a off record comment made by Maj Gen Simmons, of all people, suggesting the camp should be kept as far away from Singapore, so as not to upset the civilian population took hold. Placing it far away from the bright lights and attractions of any major town, would help focus the minds of the individuals there, as to the job they were there for, namely learn how to manage in the jungle environment.

With that requirement set, finding somewhere had suddenly become easy, and at a dinner party, the Sultan of Johore, on hearing of the type of site they were looking for, had suggested a large tract of land he would be happy to give, for a small price, far away from the bright lights of Singapore, up in northern Johore. The camp would initially be for about 1,000 men, but with room to expand to four times that number if required.

It was located close to the village of Jementah, was in an ideal position, lying at the foothills of Mount Ophir, to the south-west, which presented all the hilly terrain one could possibly want, undulating jungle to the north and marsh and padi of the upper reaches of the river Muar, lying between the camp and the small town of Segamat, provided all the different terrain you would meet in Malaya. The Sultan had offered to cut all red tape on its transfer and they were already two weeks into clearing ground and constructing the first hutted accommodation. Although it would have all the requirements of a camp, it would be basic, living in the camp itself would be part of the training environment, let alone the field exercises they would be out on.

The 12-mile road to the camp from Segamat needed some improvement, new rail sidings at Segamat to be constructed, and a small military camp and hospital to be built in Segamat to provide support facilities. Personnel to be transferred, and training courses to be developed. But what he most needed now, was a leader, someone who would have a zest for this, and a proven record in delivering good quality jungle training.

He knew who he wanted, Lt Col Stewart, but….it had been taking some time to win Gort over, who, having been present when Maj Gen Simmons and his two fortress battalions had been exposed as being totally unfit for fighting in the jungle, had remembered feeling acutely embarrassed for Simmons. Simmons himself though, hadn’t shown up well, having desperately tried to rule Stewarts manoeuvres as outside of the scope of the training plan, and as such, not to be counted in the outcome, and was able to declare the defenders as the victors.

The humiliation of Simmons had left Gort with an extremely dim view of Stewart, indeed, only thanks to Percival, and the 12th Indian Brigade commander, Brigadier Paris, pleading support for Stewart, had stopped Gort from insisting on his removal at the time. Percival had remained patient, and finally it had paid off, with Gort acquiescing to Ian Stewart being promoted Colonel and given command of the jungle training plan and camp.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Wednesday 9 April;

It was another meeting of the CoS and Churchill

“Hmmm, I have concerns, it seems to me that this Rashid Ali and his Golden Square are becoming more than just a nuisance. If we don’t act soon, it could develop into a major problem and we could end up losing control of Iraq. What is the news about help from India, General Dill?”
“India have offered the 20th Indian Brigade, which is a couple of days out of Bombay as reinforcement to the newly forming 9th Indian Division in Malaya Prime Minister. We could quickly turn her around and have her head for Basra. We do have concerns about the possibility of any opposition to our landing, I’ll pass you over to my esteemed colleague Admiral Pound for the naval plan, Dudley”

“Thank you, John, Prime Minister, we currently have HMS Cockchafer, a river gunboat at Basra, I plan to have a reinforced escort of 4 sloops for the troop convoy, and HMS Hermes with 814 FAA Squadron on board, with the light cruisers HMS Emerald and HMNZS Leander to provide any assistance required to any opposition on shore to our landings. We could deliver them there for the 18th of this month Prime Minister”

Dill resumed the narrative, “Having secured Basra Prime Minister, we could have a second brigade in Basra by the end of the month, commanded by the headquarters of the 10th Indian Division moved from Ahmednagar, and one of its brigades by mid May, and reconstitute them all as the 10th Indian again. I’m hopeful we could begin to move onto Baghdad later in May. I’ve tentatively given the codename Sabine to the operation, Prime Minister”
“And who had we thought to command this theatre John”
“I have a couple of suggestions Prime Minister, attached to the back of the report”

Ismay lifted a paper folder, and drew out the bottom sheet, sliding it to Churchill, who studied the text.
“John this first name, Quinan, wasn’t he an Aide De Camp to King Edward”
“Err I believe so Prime Minister, he’s currently in Indian, North-West frontier, has had a lot of success there over the years”
“A bush general, wasn’t he unwell a while ago, no, he won’t do, has no modern fighting experience, I want someone who won’t let us down if things get sticky. Let’s consider the second option … Good god man, have you gone quite mad, I thought we’d agreed this man wasn’t having another command, he gives up far too easily, no fighting spirit!”
“He’s doing quite well in East Africa, Prime Minister he’s...”
“East Africa? Pug, Pug, how come I don’t know about this, when did this happen, no, no, NO, this really won’t do, who’s that chap you was considering for the new Corps command in Malaya”
“Lewis Heath, Prime Minister, I said considering, because he was just about to capture Massawa, but he could be released now, however…”
“Heath! He’s a fighting man, the hero of Keren, I don’t want him wasting away in some backwater job, no, he must stay, He’s one of the few decent generals we have, and we might need him and his division in North Africa, once they’ve helped clear up in Ethiopia, we’ll send the faint heart to Malaya”.

“And Iraq, Prime Minister?”
“Well, it will have to be Quinan, Wavell recommends him, I’m sure he’ll be alright for now! promote them both, get it done”. Churchill looked left to Maj Gen Hollis, the CoS Committee Secretary. “Hollis, when did I agree to this man going to East Africa, err, never mind Hollis, just note the changes”.

It was raining hard in Neghelli, Abyssinia, the pouring rain hit the tent hard, driven by the wind, and succeeded in finding several ways to drip or even trickle in. The gas lamp swung above the small table, throwing shadows. Wrestling with the logistical problems of supplying his scattered units, and trying to maintain an advance was Major General Alfred Godwin-Austen, CO of the 12th African Division and Brigadier Christopher Fowkes, his 22nd East African Brigade commander.

A rap on the canvas, and a W/T operator came in and handed a sheet off a signal pad. Godwin-Austen read the note twice and handed it to Fowkes, remarking.
“It’s from General Cunningham, Chris, congratulations, as of from next Monday, you’re now the new commander of the 12th African Division. I’m being promoted to command a newly forming Indian Corps in Malaya”
“I say Alfred old chap that’s wonderful news, isn’t it, surely a promotion?”
“Yes Chris, but look where it is, how much more of a backwater can it be, it looks like my war is just about over”.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Friday 11 April;

Dinner was over, the port and brandy poured, cigars lit, and the talk had begun, a Major G T Wards, Assistant Military Attaché, Tokyo, was giving a lecture on the capabilities of the Imperial Japanese Army. A young Lieutenant ushered Lord Gort into the back of the room, everybody sitting with their backs to him. He hadn’t planned to stay for the talk, but having left Percival, and the gathered Brigadiers and Lt Col’s after dinner, and getting into his Humber staff car, he’d only gone a couple of miles on his journey back to Singapore, before the truck coming the other way had hit their car. Gort was fine, annoyed, but fine, but his driver was badly shaken, and the car would need some extensive work in the RASC workshops. He’d been given a lift back to the barracks, to stay here for the night, by the very same truck that had hit him, the driver continually apologising, saying he hadn’t seen the car coming the other way in the dark.

The Lieutenant started to move forward to find Gort a seat, but Gort held his arm, and shook his head, saying no. He stood there in the shadows and listened to the speaker. Major Wards was explaining how the average Japanese soldier lived, the harsh regime, breeding a stoicism, a resourcefulness, how they would adapt to the conditions they were in. He was speaking of their training, how quickly they moved into their battle drills. He talked about being on manoeuvres with them, how little baggage was carried compared to a British battalion, how unencumbered they were in the field.

Wards spoke in a steady measured way, easy to understand, and as he discussed the values of the Japanese fighting man, he gave little examples. He explained that though their weapons weren’t better that ours, the Japanese used them well, getting the best out of them. They had light artillery organic in their infantry battalions, and made good use of mortars and machine guns. And how they would carry a position with a fixed bayonet charge, crying Banzai! And then he talked of their fanaticism in battle, how their take on life was so different to ours, how they ‘wanted’ to die for their Emperor Hirohito, and how he was a god to them.

He then moved onto the tactics of the army, and here he was at pains to express their offensive attitude. He explained how they would quickly move into an attack from an encounter, how they would aim to fix the front with an attack, while trying to flank the position. And he spoke of how despite our perceptions of them having poor sight, the night attack was a much-used tactic. He then spoke of the amphibious landings made in China, how the IJA was getting progressively more proficient at it, and how certain units were now considered masters of the art. He finished with summarising that the IJA was to be considered a formidable foe.

There was a polite round of applause, before Lt Gen Percival got up to say something, but as he turned to address the audience, he noticed Lord Gort walking forward. “Ah Lord Gort sir, an unexpected pleasure, do you wish to address us”. “Yes, please Arthur, I do. Gentlemen I feel a note of thanks must be given to our speaker Major Wards, for providing us such an interesting and refreshing look at the Japanese Army. This current war with Germany and Italy, and as did the last war, has seen modern weapons making marked differences to how we do things, part of the continuing change in how warfare evolves. But some things never change, and the maxim of ‘never underestimate your enemy’ is one of them.

If, and I do say if, Japan was to attack us, I wouldn’t want people to be under the illusion that it would be a cake walk, indeed, as Major Ward has explained how they operate, it would be far from it. But, should they come, we will be ready for them, and again I emphasise the word ‘will’ because woe betide anyone who doesn’t take this lecture, and the need for us all to improve, seriously”. Gort led a round of applause, before turning to Major Wards and asking if the Major would be so kind as to have breakfast with him tomorrow.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Sunday 13 April;

Japan’s Foreign Minister Yosuke Matsuoka shook the hand of Foreign Minister Vyacheslav Mikhailovich Molotov, and then turned and shook the hand of Joseph Stalin. Both Matsuoka and Ambassador Yoshitsugu Tatekawa had just signed the Soviet-Japanese Neutrality Pact with Molotov, in Stalin’s presence.

In addition, they’d also signed declarations pledging to respect the territorial integrity of their puppet states, the Mongolian People’s Republic and Manchukuo. It was a deal that suited them both admirably, with the distractions of the border wars they had fought now put to bed. Twice Japan had become involved in full scale battles with the Soviets, The Battle of Lake Khasan, back in the summer of 1938 had escalated from a few Soviet Border Guards occupying the disputed Changkufeng Heights. The Japanese had been slow to confront this, and for two weeks the Soviets strengthened the outposts. On the 15th July, the Japanese attaché in Moscow had insisted on their withdrawal, which was ignored.

On the 31sth July, the Japanese 19th Division, sent its 75th Regt to recapture the hills, which they did, and the rest of the division moved in to fortify the location. However, despite the request for further reinforcements, the Japanese High Command stopped at that, hoping the conflict wouldn’t escalate even further. But there was no appeasing the Soviets, who amassed large numbers of troops, guns and tanks. They began their attacks on the 2nd August, but were repelled with heavy loss of men and tanks, the attacks being uncoordinated, poorly planned and led. But they persisted and eventually they succeeded in outflanking the Japanese, who were force to withdraw, with a subsequent Japanese counter attack failing. It was clear the Japanese would have to greatly reinforce, to retake the hills, so, instead they chose to agree a ceasefire. Owing to their own poor performance, the commander of the Soviet forces, Marshal Vasily Blyukher, was arrested by the NKVD, and charged with incompetence, dying while undergoing an interrogation.

But it hadn’t stopped there, on the 11th May 1939, a small cavalry unit of the Soviet puppet state, Mongolia, had crossed the Khalkha River, near the village of Nomonhan in search of better grazing. A cavalry unit of the Japanese puppet state Manchuria, had driven them back. Two days later a much stronger Mongolian force recrossed the river and occupied the ground. A small force from the Japanese 23rd Division pushed them back, only to be pushed back themselves by a larger number of Mongolian and now Soviet troops. Both sides now reinforced, The Japanese reinforced the recently raised 23rd Infantry Division with another two infantry regt’s, the 1st Tank Corps, of about 90 tanks and supporting units all under the command of the 23rd Div CO, Lt Gen Komatsubara. The Soviets sent a rising star of the heavily purged general staff, a Corps Commander, Georgy Zhukov, to command the 57th Corps.

On the 2nd July, the Japanese launched a two-pronged attack, three infantry regt’s, crossed the Khalkha River, over to the Western bank, on their right wing and captured the high ground overlooking the river, before swinging left heading for the strategically important Kawatama Bridge. The other prong was the 1st Tank Corps with some supporting infantry, which made a frontal assault on the Soviet forces dug in on the western bank, later that night. For a while, things looked good, but the Japanese armour was unable to break through the Soviet lines, losing half their tanks. The following day Zhukov reacted to the Japanese infantry on the western bank, launching a massed armoured attack of 450 light tanks and armoured cars, unsupported by infantry.

The Japanese infantry was short on anti-tank artillery, but fought tenaciously, their few 37mm AT guns, along with large numbers of Molotov cocktails, demolition charges and anti-tank mines, destroyed 120 armoured vehicles with numerous acts of bravery, but the 45mm guns and machine guns of the Soviet tanks, took a heavy toll. With only a single pontoon bridge supplying them, the Japanese were being gradually squeezed into an ever-collapsing pocket, ammunition supplies becoming a major problem. On the 5th July, to save them from being annihilated, Komatsubara withdrew his forces back across the river. Four days later, Zhukov counter attacked and threw the Tank Corps out of the few positions it had captured, pushing the Japanese back to their starting positions.

Both sides continued to spar, but supplies were becoming a problem, and on the 23rd, the Japanese made a last effort, with two infantry regt’s attacking towards the Kawatama Bridge supported by all their artillery. They struggled for two days before artillery supplies began to fall short, and withdrew again. Both sides needed rest, and a race to reinforce, and more importantly resupply their forces was on. Above them, for days, a massive air war was being fought, the Soviets eventually losing about 250 aircraft, the Japanese 150.

A couple of Soviet probes were thrown back with heavy loss, but the Japanese were becoming exhausted. Meanwhile the Soviets were secretly amassing for a new offensive. On the 20th August Zhukov launched a new attack, catching the Japanese by surprise. First the southern flank broke through the Japanese lines, swing north, Japanese infantry selling themselves dearly, holding ground and having to be wiped out. Then the northern wing broke through, swinging south, linking up on the 25th. A Japanese counter attack the following day failed to relive the 23rd Division, and its efforts to break out on the 27th failed. The next few days the Soviets collapsed the pocket destroying the 23rd Division.

However, with the German invasion of Poland taking place, the Soviets needed a ceasefire, which was agreed on the 15th September 1939. Zhukov was given the award, ‘Hero of the Soviet Union’, while Komatsubara, would command the remnants of his division for a few months before disappearing in obscurity in staff posts, dying of stomach cancer just over a year later. For the Japanese it had been a chastening experience, the huge numbers of men and material the Soviets had been able to deploy, plus their big artillery concentrations had left lasting impressions. For the Soviets, the way the Japanese fought so tenaciously, with few easy gains, suggested further war with them would be hugely expensive. And so, with the signing of the treaty, and fences mended, both could look away, towards their greater threats, namely Germany for the Soviets, and the USA for a Japan, who was still bogged down in China.

But at present, Stalin was delighted, so much so he’d already decided he’d be at the train station to say goodbye to Matsuoka, with the world’s press there, there was plenty of political play to be had here. For Japan, the signing marked a significant move towards adopting the Southern Expansion Doctrine, favoured by the Navy, that made South-East Asia and the Pacific Islands a target of Japanese dominance, as opposed to the Army favoured Northern Expansion Doctrine towards Manchuria and Siberia.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Monday 14 April;

“The Germans have broken through the wire, we’ve got to push them out, here’s what we’re going to do” Lieutenant Austin Mackell, commander of no 16 platoon, sat in the command bunker of strongpoint R33, explaining his plan with his section leaders. He spoke slowly, carefully, looking each man in the eye, checking to see they understood. Conference over, Mackell picked up a rifle, and attached the bayonet, and with Corporal Edmondson, moved to the rear of the strongpoint. The rest of Edmondson’s section, were waiting, minus the Bren gun pair, who were staying, helping provide covering fire.

”Ok boy’s lets go” Mackell climbed out of the trench, and began a scurried run to the right, followed by Edmondson and the five remaining men of his section, at a fast, bent over stumble, across the rocky ground, in an effort to flank the Germans. Things went well at first, the small party making good progress in the dark night, familiar with the ground they were defending. But somehow a German saw them, a glint of a helmet, or bayonet, a rock rolling away, and called out. Seconds later, a machine gun opened fire, forcing the men down. And that was the signal for the covering fire, 16 Platoon opening up with everything they had, in an effort to keep the German’s heads down.

Mackell began a crawl, still circling around, the men, all on their bellies, following. Closer to the Germans rear now, they formed up, lying in an extended row, below a shallow ridge of rock. The German’s were worried, but the covering fire was mostly doing its work. Mackell spoke to the men, readying them for a final charge, and then the covering fire stopped. “That’s it boys, charge” the seven men rose stepping over the rocky ridge, and onward towards the shell holes, earth scraps and natural cover behind which the Germans lay. Pins out, grenades flew forward, a couple each, and then holding the rifle with two hands they charged forward.

A grenade exploded, knocking Private Grant off his feet, the shrapnel wounding Corporal Edmondson in the neck and stomach. Both men scrambled onto their feet and continued the charge. A German fired at machine gun at them, but couldn’t fully traverse it round. He let go and stood up, pulling out a luger, firing it at Grant. The bullets went wild, Grant’s bayonet didn’t, the German falling back into his hole. Mackell was well in front, another machine gun post, a German rose up to his right, he swung the butt of his rifle round, knocking the German down, a second rose, and Mackell stuck his bayonet into him, stabbing through the ribs. The blade wedged in, not coming loose, the German grabbed him around the legs holding him close.

Edmondson, bloodied, was closing, as a third German climbed out the hole, the Aussie’s bayonet taking him in the throat. The first German was up now, climbing onto Mackell back, hands around his throat, throttling him. Two lunges with the bayonet by Edmondson dropped him off, and then he finished off the third German, freeing Mackell. The attack on their rear, with grenades and a terrifying battle cry, did for the remaining Germans, who fled, leaving over a dozen dead, and one prisoner. Their job done, the seven Australians and their prisoner returned to the strongpoint, Grant wondering how they had all survived the mad attack. But they didn’t, as early morning, Edmondson, passed away as a result of his wounds.

The siege of Tobruk began on the 11th of April, and it had been assumed by the German staff that the shipping observed over several nights was evacuating the Tobruk garrison, and consequently, a quick sharp attack could bag the remainder. However, probes by the 5th Panzer Regt had been firmly met by the Australian 20th Brigade, and so a night attack was called for. The attack began after dark on the evening of the 13th, against the Australian 2/17 battalion sector.

Troops of the German 8th MG Battalion, accompanied by engineers began infiltrating the wire at a number of points, with the aim of providing crossing points across the anti-tank ditch, and forming bridgeheads from which 5th Panzer Regt would attack, pushing one column north to the harbour, and a second one west to cut off any escape. The machine gunners didn’t find it easy, and in the small unit actions during the night, Corporal John Edmundson illustrated the Australians desire to hold their ground, winning a VC posthumously, helping repel one probing attack.

However, despite those valiant efforts, a crossing was made, and 5th Panzer advanced, still under cover of the night, and had crossed, formed up, and begun their attacks, initially progressing well. Then daylight broke, and British artillery, often firing over open sights, along with dug in, hull down, cruiser tanks, opened with a storm of fire, began to knock tanks out. Because the Australian infantry had doggedly held their positions, 8th MG Battalion was unable to move forward and support the tanks. With losses mounting, the attack was called off, the Germans somewhat stunned by the ferocity of the defence, and their own losses, both Lt Col Gustav Ponath, commander of 8th MG Battalion, killed, and 75% of the battalion casualties, this in addition of losing Generalmajor Heinrich von Prittwitz, commander of 15th Panzer Division, earlier, who had been sent forward by Rommel to command the ad hoc collection of German units around Tobruk.

The arrival of Rommel, along with the leading units of the Afrika Korps, transformed the fortunes of the Axis Powers in the North African theatre, his energy, daring use of motorised troops in very mobile fluid actions devastated the British With their best troops sent to Greece, what had been left to garrison Cyrenaica was short on experience, equipment, transport, in need to rest and repair. The British 2nd Armoured Division, abet a shadow of what it should have been, was annihilated, its commander, Maj Gen Michael Gambier-Parry, as well as Lt Gen’s Phillip Neame and Richard O’Conner, captured. The rest of the British forces were routed, and all was lost, except for one factor, Tobruk didn’t fall.

Tobruk had been a useful little port for the Italians, a supply point for their Tenth Army, facing Egypt, and as a consequence, had been fortified. When the British had captured it, they in turn found it useful for supplying their army, and the various camps and facilities used by the Italians, also served the British well too. It became a useful rear area base, and the British, with some considerable foresight, had repaired, improved and extended the Italian defences. Owing to the transport shortages, a number of Australian infantry battalions were based there, to ease supply demands, while part of the 2nd Armoured Division was in refit there, along with a number of Field and AA artillery units.

So, Lt Gen Leslie Morshead, commander of the Australian 9th Division, was told to hold out in Tobruk with what he had, stopping its fall. The consequences were huge, without Tobruk, the Axis forces had a large detour around its perimeter, to continue eastwards to Egypt, they missed having the small port as a resupply point, and an administrative base, and were left with a threat in their rear to their communications. And for now, Tobruk had held!

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Wednesday 16 April;

The Managing Director of the Malayan Collieries, Mr H H Robbins stood up, cleared his throat and then began to speak in his strong Australian accent. “I am able to report today, that we have reached a negotiated settlement with the Malayan Collieries Workers Trade Union. This has been achieved in no small part thanks to the assistance of the Chinese Consul Mr Tsze Zau. There will be an immediate pay increase of 7½% across all pay bands back dated to 1st April, and a further increase in May of 5%, giving a total of 12½%. I can report the men have accepted this and normal work resumed this morning with good attendance, thank you”. He sat down, as a reporter stood up, “Mr Robbins, its Simon Brown, Straits Times, I wonder if I might ask a few questions…

Ass Superintendent Hugh Broun Sym of the Special Branch sat at the back, in a nondescript suit, watching. There was nothing here for him to learn, he’d only came to witness the closure of the strike. But his work, well that was only just beginning.

The strike had started on the 7th, it had been well organised, the whole labour force of 5,000 Chinese and Indians walking out, demanding a 20% wage increase. But this time both the Police and the Colliery management had handled things better. The death and bloodshed of 1937 had been avoided, and they had been more patience throughout negotiations.

Intimidation, coercion and beatings had been used to keep the strike strong, and only when the Chinese had accepted the pay rise, had management taken a strong line with the Indians, who wouldn’t agree, laying them off. It broke the strike; they’d take the offer and came back.

But the work needed to organise a strike and maintain it had brought individuals to prominence, and Sym’s men had duly noted their activities. Among the Chinese, the Communists were becoming increasingly influential, while among the Tamil Indians, nationalism was an underlying driver. But it had also given opportunity for infiltration, Sym now had a number of men reporting back on the secret organisations from within.

Because, make no mistake, the British couldn’t afford to let the situation get out of hand, with so much at stake. It was important that the Chinese Communists didn’t grow any stronger, that the growth of the Indian Nationalism movement in Malaya was checked, and that the mines re-open and return to working to capacity. It was the only mine in the country, producing over 600,000 tons a year, of lignite, or brown coal, used mostly by the railway and the tin mines. Bunkerage coal for shipping had to be imported from South Africa, India and Japan, which was another 700,000 tons a year. Thus, it was a fundamental part of the makeup of Malaya’s economy, and as such had to be protected.

Well, reflected Hugh, we’d been caught out this time, but that wouldn’t be happening again, certainly not on his watch.

 

[Fatboy Coxy]

1941, Friday 18 April;

The young student carefully stepped forward, as directed by the operator, dressed in overalls, the Tamagawa Amusement Park name and logo nicely embraided on the back, a thick leather harness fixed tightly around him, the buckles and straps having been checked by the operator. He came to the edge, and looked down, a light wind was blowing, the overalls flapping around his ankles, the ground below looking quite distant from 165 feet in the air. He looked across at the operator, who gave a sharp nod, and he made a small leap forward. Down he soared, the canopy above filling with air, his body gently swinging like a pendulum as he descended. For a brief few seconds he was a parachutist, a dare devil, gliding through the sky, before the cable attached to the top of the canopy began to bite, arresting much of the fall, proving him with an easy landing, the proprietors sensing that broken legs and ankles would not be conducive to business.

Another couple of employees stepped forward to undo his buckles, the buttons of his overalls, allowing him to step out of them and join the other five students he was with, closely observed by a lecturer from his ‘school’. It completed the second jump for them all, and with thanks given to the jump tower operators, they began to make their way out of the park, led by the ‘lecturer’.

Much impressed by the success of the German Fallshirmjager, the Japanese military high command, both in the IJA and IJN looked to form units of their own. For the IJA, a small cadre of officers had been gathered, who at great personal risk, had written a basic manual, after studying what information there was to be found on parachuting, proposed training and technical techniques. With that done an initial 250 trainees, serving NCO volunteers, had joined at Ichigaya airbase in Tokyo, to create the backbone of a formation of paratroopers. This would be fleshed out by coming waves of volunteering privates, who would benefit from the small improvements made in the training manual, as time progressed.

After intense physical training, conditioning the trainees for the rigours ahead, there were few ways to simulate a parachute jump, other than off a tall wooden box and roll over on the mat below, before they were committed to the real thing, a jump out of a Nakajima Type 97 transport, a copied and modified Douglas DC-2, which could carry seven parachutists.

Meanwhile, back at Tamagawa, another six students had appeared, the recent big increase in popularity of the jump tower bemusing the parks owners, who, it would seem, had stumbled on a proverbial ‘gold mine’.