THE BATTLE OF THE TELEPHONES

New Zealand Listener, Volume 8, Issue 192, 26 February 1943, Page 6

THE BATTLE OF THE TELEPHONES

| Written for "The Listener"

by

P.

Q.

HE enemy has landed at and is advancing rapidly! What would you do?" "The torward troops have run out of ammunition. The ammunition dump has been blown up! The ammunition supply company has been wiped out! The roads are blocked! The bridges are down! What would you do?" "The enemy is reported in Otaki! The enemy is reported to be evacuating Otaki. Farmer Brown, of Otaki, complains that the enemy has shot his pedigree bull! What would you do?" . "Our left flank is hard-pressed! What would you do? At the same time, supply a return of all troops in your unit not of British parentage, and state whether married or single, giving age, parentage, number of children, and whether previously convicted." "What would you do?"

HE "battle" is on. The embryo intelligence officers are getting the third degreea test of wits and staying power that goes on for tense, gruelling hours. They are completing a course from which some will graduate as intelligence officers to army units in New Zealand. They have been roundly lectured in the importance of their work. On their ability te pick the eyes out of any situation, maintain a quick flow of information between command and fighting unit, depends the efficiency of attack or defence. "That’s why we lost Singapore and Burma and Malaya. That’s why we were hopelessly beaten. ." The instructing officer makes it quite clear at this New Zealand army school. . "Here were the best troops in the world-and I really mean the world. British regulars‘some of *the finest regiments-beaten, thrashed, and kicked out of one stronghold after another, because why? Because many of them had the idéas with which many of you came to this school. They thought intelligence officers were men who could read maps and move across country at night with a compass. They forgot the fundamentals; a close and continued study of your enemy, a never-ending searching of his methods, his arms, his training, his morale, his dispositions, his supplies, his aspirations, and as a result of an experienced study of these factors, an intimation of his probable plans and intentions." To approximate fighting conditions in @ country at peace within its own borders, the intelligence school makes war by telephone. The utmost ingenuity gives the idea extraordinary training value. Students are divided into syndi-

cates, each with a headquarters, complete with ’phones, maps, battleboards, typewriters. The fighting comes to them by telephone from a control room in which the chief instructor directs operations from a full script of the Operations, Not for a second once the "battle" starts is the student given any let-up. Demands, reports, commands, everything conflicting, bewildering, flow continuously in to him by telephone. Harassed, nerve-wracked, he fights for time to think against the incessant ringing of the ’phones. But he gets no time. He must think while he acts. Every mistake would mean a skirmish lost, an opportunity given away, if the battle were real. To make it more difficult, apart from having a battle on his hands, he is plagued also with irrelevancies. Requests for statistics from headquarters, visits by "local dignitaries," complaints from civilians. If he survives, then he’s good. % ea HE battle begins. The ’phone rings: "Hello, hello. Is that the Army? This is the Mayor of . They’re all around here, . ." "Wait a minute. Who are?" "The Japs. They’re passing through the town on armoured vehicles, and there are lorries of infantry. . . I can’t talk any longer. . ." The headquarters begins to buzz, Maps are marked. "Call up the forward units," says the officer who answered the ‘phone, "and tell them that Japs A.F.V.’s and lorried infantry are just passing north through and let them know... ." "How many A.F.V.’s?" asks the instructor. "What size lorries, and how

many men on each? Are they their own lorries or have they captured some of ours?" The intelligence officer realises, too late, his mistake. "J didn’t ask him. Ill ring him back . .. he’ll probably be at the Town Hall." "Yes, of course he will,’ smiles in instructor. "The streets are full of Japanese tanks and soldiers, and the Mayor will be in the Town Hall probably writing his speech for the next borough elections. . . No, you slipped. Never mind, answer the ’phone." "This is A Battalion. Our forward patrols report that a large body of enemy troops passed our front forward position 685795 in an easterly direction. About 20 minutes ago. About two platoons." Map references are studied. It is obvious that the enemy will strike the right flank of B Battalion. Some of the students fail to pass on the information. The instructor reminds them, and is still talking when the door opens and a civilian staggers in. His head is swathed in a blood-stained bandage, and as he starts to speak, he collapses. Painfully, he raises his head and points to the door, gasping, "Guns . . . guns landing off ships . . . big guns . . . warships." The staff all start asking questions. He faints. They bring him round, but in the excitement they rush him again and again he faints. Only when they question him slowly and reasonably does he tell the number, types and sizes of the guns and ships. Again the instructor points out the errors. The class is learning fast. Even while the instructor is talking, the ’phone rings. It is a further report from the right forward battalion that they have captured two enemy soldiers identified as belonging to the Second Japanese Marines. Flood of Reports For the next hour the ’phone never stops ringing. Reports from forward units giving positions of enemy patrols and their own movements; inquiries from division for intelligence summaries; fire plans from units; reconnaissance reports from the Army Co-operation Squadrons, All the time the situation map is being altered under the watchful eye of the instructor, and seemingly irrelevant scraps of information are being juggled by the intelligence officer and his staff as they try to piece together the strength and composition of the enemy, while forward and flanking units are kept informed of the situation, Again the door flies open. In bursts a civilian who demands to see the head man immediately. "What sort of a ruddy army do you call this?" he screams, knocking the battleboard flying. "A man spends his money on Liberty Bonds and patriotic associations and what does he get? Japs (Continued on next page)

d (Continued from previous page) funning tanks over his potatoes ... knocking down his peas .. . shooting his dog..." "Hey, hey, wait a minute, old chap," Temonstrates an officer. "What’s the trouble?" "What’s the trouble!" The civilian roars and rants. "Japs screaming and shouting all over a. man’s farm. Why don’t you get out and fight them instead of sitting here? What’s the matter? Are you yellow?" He looks round belligerently. J "Well, where is your farm?" asks an officer. "Here, show us on the map." With a swing of his hand, the visitor sends the map flying. "That’s all you can think about. Bits of paper. Get out and fight like men instead of sitting here doing nothing." He aims a kick at the sergeant and tips over the table with the typewriter and papers. With a quick spin he sends the officer flying over the overturned table and then, shouting and screaming, grabs one of the students acting as a clerk. At this moment, a despatch rider, covered with dust, comes into the room holding out an urgent cipher message. The ‘phone starts to ring incessantly. With one accord, the Headquarters staff pick up the civilian and heave him through the door. Divisional headquarters ring asking for corraborative evidence to identify enemy armoured vehicles or tanks, "Yes," says the instructor, enjoying it, "you just threw that corroborative evifence through the door." Enemy Falls Back More information is pouring over the "phone, and on all fronts patrols report the enemy falling back. The cipher message asks for a return of all office furniture held on charge as at the first of the month. A report that the left company of the left forward battalion has captured three enemy believed to belong to the Second Jepanese Marines arrives by liaison officer, and on all fronts the enemy continues to fall back. Aerial reconnaissance states that two transports were bombed off the coast about three miles from Beach, They were accompanied by a destroyer, which shot down two of our ’planes. One of the transports was sunk. Our armoured fighting vehicle regiment of the right flank is advancing rapidly against almost negligible opposition, and although the left flank is giving some trouble, the rest of the brigade is driving the enemy back towards with apparent ease. ; There is an air of victory in the headquarters, and the staff, between messages and ’phone rings, are congratulating themselves on the fairly easy advance the brigade is making: Lessons Learned The instructor, however, is not pleased. "Here are the Japs doing something they’ve never been known to do before and you have so far attached no significance to it," he says. "Why should they suddenly start to withdraw right along the line? And you need only look at your own map to see that’s what has been going on for about two and a-half hours." "Well I'll be--" "And here," the instructor points out, "At 10.35 two enemy soldiers identified as belonging to the Second Japanese

Marines were captured by the right forward battalion over here. Then again, at 12.14 three soldiers identified as belonging to the same unit were captured here by the left forward battalion, Have a look at the map. Get your dividers and work out how far apart these two points are." The sergeant works it out, "It’s roughly 6,500 yards." "Yes, 6,500 yards. Nearly four miles. Now, what is the usual frontage for a battalion?" "Round about 1,000 to 1,500 yards, sir," says the sergeant, "Well, here again we have something that should make us ask what is going on. What do you think about that?" "Well, sir, I -er-er." "Here we have men captured from the same unit at the extreme ends of our front. We have the enemy creating a most conspicuous precedent by withdrawing at the slightest pressure. In addition, we have the rather strange phenomenon of two transports endeavouring to reach . Now, surely that must mean something?" "T’ve got it, I think." "Yes, what do you think?" "The enemy has only a small force on land. Division told us he had at least 20 transports in this area last night, Do you think he could have brought them all here to fool us? Only unloading one and keeping the brigade guessing all day and being held up by only one battalion." "But surely it’s obvious," the instructor prompts. "He makes a landing with a few troops here, giving it a semblance

of a full-scale landing, to get our forces to rush to this area, so he could make an uninterrupted landing further north." Now it is all clear, and they wonder why they did not see the significance of these reports on captured enemy, Theory and Practice This is their first practical exercise, After weeks of theory and discussion, they learn their first real lesson; that it is not enough to have much knowledge unless they can apply it intelligently; that theory is insufficient without hard practice. The next day they are at it again, And the day after. They learn that the nerve centre of a fighting force controls just abdut the most complicated mechanism ever devised. They are served by radio, by runner, by field telephone. Around them pivot the movements of infantry, artillery, engineers, supply companies, huge transport services. They must understand the air and the sea, and they should know the geography, the meteorology, even the geology of the land. They need to be psychologists, understanding something of. the way of living of the enemy, as, well as his methods of fighting. They must soak in as much knowledge as they can hold and compare it with information pouring in at them from all their own multifarious units, from civilians, from airmen, from seamen, And what they learn they must be able to apply instantly. If the mechanism breaks down under them they know that repairs cannot be made at any factory. The broken cogs will be men, and the cost may be their own country.