ARMY Eccentric No. 1

New Zealand Listener, Volume 10, Issue 252, 21 April 1944, Page 4

ARMY Eccentric No. 1

With "Wingate’s Mob" On Raid

Into Burma

I T was announced the other day that Major General Orde Charles Wingate had been killed in an air-crash in Burma. Since Wingate had become in this war almost as romantic a figure as his kinsman Lawrence was in _ the war of 1914-18, we reprint an impression of him | condensed from English and American magazines. We begin with an "Atlantic Monthly" account of his expedition into Burma last year. IGHT British columns secretly crossed from India through the Japanese lines into Burma last year, and for three months spread confusion and panic. The Japanese buzzed about like bees out of an overturned hive, but never caught up with the raiders. Wingate’s expedition wiped out Jap outposts, exploded ammunition dumps, wrecked airfields, put highways out of commission, blew up bridges and dynamited the railway. The raiders-Wingate named them the Chindits, after the dragons’ which guard Burmese temples-penetrated 300 miles into Japanese-held territory, then made a heroic march back to India. Casualties were fewer than anyone had dared predict. It is one of the great romantic tales of this war. The expedition accomplished important aims. It relieved pressure on the Chinese; it gathered information which enabled the R.A.F. to make devastating raids; it tied up the Japs and probably staved off an invasion of India. Above all, it set a pattern of training and tactics for the reconquest of Burma. Gurkhas, Burmese, and a regiment of city-bred Englishmen showed the Jap he no longer was master of the jungle.

Wingate’s British Chindits were sec-ond-line troops-nearly all of them married men from the North of England aged 28 to 35. Wingate told them: "We have to imitate Tarzan." For six sweltering months in the Indian jungles he trained them in river crossing, infiltration tactics, and long forced marches with heavy packs, until they were the toughest of shock troops. On returning from the raid one private remarked: "The whole job was a piece of cake compared to the training." Field-Marshal Wavell inspected the Chindits when they were about to leave India, and as a gesture of respect, saluted them before they could salute him. Wingate mostly kept clear of beaten trails, hacking his own path through the jungle. He sent out "deception groups" to lay false’ trails, but mainly relied on (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) speed of movement. Jap patrols were often so close that scouts would bump into each other in the jungle. Skirmishing was almost continuous, and the Chindits killed more than 1000 Japs. But the enemy never caught up with them in force. Frequently the Chindits covered 30 miles a day in a temperature of 105 in the shade. Wingate saw to it that not a moment was wasted. He forbade shav- — ing because it would mean ten minutes’ less sleep. He had a theory that sickness could be kept down by constant marching-and it is a fact that there was hardly a case of malaria. At the head of each column trotted scouting dogs, trained to recognise the scent of the Japanese. The eight prongs of the expedition kept in constant touch with one another by radio, messenger dogs, carrier pigeons, and strange birdcalls. Elephants, ridden by little Burmese mahouts, plodded ahead with the mortars, Bren guns, folding boats, and wireless sets. Next came the horses and the men; then the mules. In the rear were oxen and bullocks drawing carts loaded with machine guns, tommy guns, grenades, rifles, and ammunition. Each column was a mile long. "Looks like Noah’s Ark," said one Tommy as the weird assortment of animals clambered up the banks of a river. Strangely enough, the columns could not be heard 200 yards away, for the jungle deadens sound. Supplied by Air The Chindits had rubber-soled hockey shoes, Australian-type slouch hats, antimosquito veils, and machetes. Each man entered Burma with six days’ paratroop rations on his back and thereafter was supplied from the air. All told, the expedition received 500,000 pounds of airborne supplies. An R.A.F. flying officer marched with each column to select sites for dropping the supplies-rice fields, dried-up river beds, tracts of flattened elephant grass. Code messages notified the air base in Assam of the exact time and place for the next delivery. Smoke fires guided the aircraft in daytime, flares at night. The big planes would swoop as low as 150 feet to release their load of arms, ammunition, dynamite, and ration cans containing bully beef, biscuits, dates, raisins, tea, sugar, salt, and Vitamin C tablets. The only breakage was one bottle of rum. The R.A.F. made a valiant attempt to give the columns any special items they requested-a life of Bernard Shaw, a bottle of Irish whisky for St. Patrick’s Day, monocles, false teeth, and a kilt were odd items asked for and sent. The base officer in charge of supplies was a Captain Lord. One day Wingate radioed: "Oh, Lord, send us bread!" and got the prompt reply: "The Lord hath heard thy prayer." A few hours later, 60 loaves--manna from heaven — were dropped. A Chindit raiding party came upon the headquarters of a Jap unit, deserted except for servants busily preparing dinner. The Burmese obligingly waited on Wingate’s men, who polished off every scrap of food in the camp. One More River to Cross The expedition penetrated within 120 miles of the Burma Road, then was (continued on next page)

BRITISH RAID BURMA

(continued from previous page) ordered to return. When the columns got back to Irrawaddy-it was a bitterly cold night with a brilliant moon-the Japs opened up with mortars and machine guns. Wingate could have forced a crossing, but it would have meant heavy losses. Standing on a sandbank in the Irrawaddy, looking like some minor prophet with his huge beard and a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, he made a split-second decision, He ordered the Chindits to break up into groups of 40 and play hide-and-seek in the jungle until they had given the Japs the slip. Within 48 hours every party had managed to cross the river safely. Then they buried their wireless sets, smashed their heavy equipment, and set off on the 300-mile trek to India. : Without radios, no more air-borne supplies were possible. The Chindits first ate their bullocks and mules, and after that lived on rice, snakes, vultures, banana palms, jungle roots, and grass soup. Hunted every yard of the way, they were forced to avoid the main drinking places, and sometimes went for

days with only a few mouthfuls of water drained out of hollow bamboos. Knowing that their security lay in speed, Wingate drove his men without mercy. A "Sword and Bible" General A good impression of Wingate himself was given last year by Charles J. Rolo, an American correspondent, who saw him in India. Here it is, considerably abbreviated: HE British Army seems to produce one such eccentric soldier-genius in every generation — Clive of India, "Chinese" Gordon, Lawrence of Arabia. Wingate is a "sword and Bible" general, a profound believer in prayer, a mystic given to Yoga, and a hardbitten professional soldier who loves fighting for its own sake. He starts the day with prayer, uses Scripture passages for code. The sword, the Bible, and the flair for strange races are all a part of Wingate’s heritage. His father served 32 years in the Indian Army, and after retiring, founded a mission for the Pathans. His deeply religious mother gave him a Puritan unbringing.

Wingate has the lean face of an intellectual, deep-set piercing blue eyes, a thin, bony nose, severe mouth and lantern jaw. His blond hair is bleach-, ing into grey. In Burma he wore a tattered bush shirt, russet corduroy trousers and an old-fashioned scuttleshaped sun helmet. He has a pet theory that human beings can store up energy as a camel stores up water. In the field he can keep going for weeks on end with only a few hours of sleep, but when the job is done, will spend days sleeping or in dreamy contemplation. He is a fanatic about physical fitness, a non-smoker, and believes firmly in the health-giving properties of raw onions, which he munches on the march. He massages his back with q rubber hairbrush every night. For a man whose profession is war, Wingate’s range of interests is bewildering. In the early morning he can be (continued on next page)

(continued from previous page) heard singing to himself in Arabic. He is passionately fond of music, and for hours will lie on the floor listening to symphonic fecords. His literary tastes extend from Shakespeare to the British comic-strip heroine "Jane," but he prefers serious reading. Wingate talks like an encyclopedia. In the officers’ mess he will hold forth on Yoga, the social habits of the hyena, the behaviour of flies when you put them under a tumbler, 18th century painting, and how to win the war. In Ethiopia he once amazed a group of junior officers with a discourse on the technique of hyena hunting by pistol in the moonlight. Prodigiously Indiscreet Wingate is mo respecter of rank or title; his indiscretion is prodigious. He lectures superiors on their mistakes of policy, and is probably the only British officer in modern times who has used the ancient prerogative of complaining in writing to the King about one of his superiors. But after provoking the wrath of a group of brass hats with his unorthodox ideas, Wingate once soberly remarked to a friend: "You know, I’m not half as crazy as people think."

In Palestine in 1938, he was awarded the D.S.O.-to which he has since added two bars-for leading the night patrols that cleared the country of Axis-subsidised Arab terrorists. In Ethiopia he won the admiration and support of the tribesmen by a series of swashbuckling forays against vastly superior Italian forces, Wingate is one of the few white men in this war who have succeeded in swaying the primitive native mind. He always carries with him a duplicating machine, a loudspeaker, and a unit of specially-trained native propagandists. At every village in Burma and Ethiopia he paused long enough to hand out leaflets and to broadcast a manifesto _framed in simple, picturesque language. "The mysterious men who have come among you," he told the Burmese, "can summon from afar’ great and mysterious powers of the air, and will rid you of the fierce, scowling Japanese." ‘The Burmese reverently named him "Lord Protector of the Pagodas." They kept mum about the movements of the Chindits, and guided them over secret jungle trails. In Ethiopia The Ethiopian campaign was a typical .Wingate show all. the. way-full .

of dash, surprise, and successful bluff. With only: 1800 ‘Sudanese: and. Ethiopian Askaris, he stormed Italian strongholds in a’ series of’ rapierlike thrusts. Groups of fuzzy-haired Ethiopian irregulars-Wingate insisted they be called "Patriots’"tallied to his side. Field-Marshal Wavell was so impressed that he summoned Wingate to India in the autumn of 1942, raised him to the rank of brigadier, and gave him a free hand to build up a super-commando force that would be the vanguard of reconquest of Burma. "The Jap," says Wingate, "is no superman. His operational schemes are the product of a third-rate brain. Jungle warfare demands _resourcefulness and endurance. The Jap has tremendous endurance, but he cannot solve problems he has never faced before. We. have proved we can beat the Jap on his own chosen ground."