Jocks in the Jungle

by Gordon Thorburn

  The challenge for the Jocks was to turn themselves into jungle fighters as good as the Japanese. They had a few short months to become Chindits. Regulars, or new boys just shipped out from Scotland, all of them were ordinary men; men from the towns and villages who’d taken the King’s shilling in their country’s peril.

  David Rose: ‘We were certainly not supermen. We were not volunteers and we hadn’t passed any fitness tests. We had no idea about growing our own food, much less killing it. Who was going to deal with a bullock, and cut it up to share out? Have we any ex-butchers in the column? Anybody here know how to cook without pots and pans?’

  Front-line troops they most definitely were, but they were not your super-selected special-forces types, your SAS and SBS volunteers – at least, not yet. But, it was a special-forces job they were supposed to do and that is what they were called, Special Force.

  The Cameronians Battalion was to provide two columns, named from the old regimental numbers, 26 and 90, and likewise, the Black Watch. Under Rose was 42 Column, which was 400 men from B and D Companies, parts of HQ Company, a platoon of Burma Rifles and various specialists including the medics, signals and air force liaison. The animals, sixty mules, a few horses to carry wounded men, and some bullocks, would fulfil a dual role. Under Lieutenant Colonel Green was 73 Column, which was A and C Companies plus the same extras.

  Of huge importance were the Burma Rifles for reconnaissance. They were mostly anti-Jap Burmese, men generally referred to as ‘Burrifs’, originally short for Burma Rifles but a term applied to all the sympathetic locals and guides whether officially Burma Rifles or not.

  Some were of the Karen people, a Baptist Christian minority in Burma, and others were Kachin, tribesmen from the hills with a fearsome reputation but likewise largely Christian. The Kachins had never been under direct British rule but were governed through a system of client clan chiefs and, like the Karens, were (and still are) a national minority, with their own language and culture. As the British brought colonial law and order, so the position of peoples like the Karens and Kachins equalised, but such reforms were reversed by the Japanese and their sympathisers, the Burma Independence Army (BIA), which had helped the Japs invade.

  The BIA grew into quite a force, attracted various renegade gangs, turned on the Karens and Kachins and encouraged hostility to British troops among the local populace, spying on British army movements and giving false information. The Japanese formed a new Burma National Army in 1943 and gave a kind of notional independence to the country, but the reality was continuous and brutal Japanese military rule, with the BNA doing a lot of the dirty work. Later, almost all the population turned against their Jap overlords, but that hadn’t yet happened when the Chindits were operating.

  The Scots Battalions still had their pipers with them. In Rajgarh, the officers of 73 Column decided to have a Burns Night.

  Bill Lark: ‘Our commanders had got themselves in with the tea planters up there, and they wanted to put on a show. They had to instruct the local cooks in the matter of how to make haggis, and of course I had to pipe it in. When that was all over, there was a pile of haggis left so I took it down to the lads who very soon saw to it. And it wasn’t a bad try at a haggis, not bad at all. I don’t know what they had in it. You don’t ask questions like that, but it tasted all right, and it was different from our usual food. Maybe it’s a traditional dish up there now.

  ‘Anyway, they came to the pipe band and said they were desperate for muleteers, or you can go to duty (be normal infantrymen) if you want to. We didn’t know one end of a mule from the other but we all decided to be muleteers. We were each assigned a mule, which we had to get to know, and we had to sit on our mule while the veterinary cut the voice box out. We couldn’t take any chances on any heehawing in the jungle. So we learned to water them and feed them, saddle them, put the loads on properly, and clean their feet every night with a little hook. Mine was the medical mule, Katina, named after the woman on Crete who used to do our washing. Katie, we called her. She had no white marks, which is the white hair that grows again from a saddle sore.’

  Major Desmond Whyte, DSO, was the senior MO with 111 Brigade. He was interviewed for Imperial War Museum records in 1992:

  ‘We started training with six doctors (in the brigade). The training was quite strenuous, physically and psychologically, and we lost a lot of our otherwise excellent young doctors (because) they couldn’t stand it. They had to give up. It was the knowledge of what you were being led into. You had to be your own surgeon, your own physician, dermatologist, everything medical, your own eye surgeon, et cetera et cetera, orthopaedics. You were on your own. Nobody to turn to except your orderlies.

  ‘(For equipment per column) we were allowed one pannier; one side of a mule, for medicines, dressings and instruments, which were utilitarian rather, and that pannier was never big enough.’

  After the war, the US Army Medical Department compiled a comprehensive set of reports on military medicine in India and Burma. Here is an extract from their deliberations on the Chindits, written mostly by the man put in charge of medical matters with the campaign already underway, the interestingly named British General W.J.Officer, a colonel at the time:

  ‘The medical establishment of Special Force was under ranked and undermanned. It consisted of (1) a Deputy Director of Medical Services and the Headquarters medical section of three officers and four other ranks; (2) the brigade medical units, each composed of two medical officers, a warrant officer, and twenty other ranks; and (3) the column medical units. Wingate intervened to prevent the senior medical officer from attaining a rank commensurate with his position as D.D.M.S. Wingate also reduced the size of the column medical detachments below the level which the medical administration believed would be adequate.

  ‘General Wingate suggested that use could be made of the Column Padre as a medical orderly but this was not agreed to by the D.D.M.S. However, after more discussion, it was finally decided by the General that the Column establishment would be one Medical Officer, one Sergeant and two other ranks R.A.M.C. on the columns with Padres, and one Medical Officer, one Sergeant and three other ranks R.A.M.C. on columns without Padres.’

  Although this arrangement was approved by GHQ, the Deputy Director never agreed to it. He was over-ruled and, as he had repeatedly forecast, it would prove quite inadequate. When platoons went out on their own, taking a medical orderly with them, resources would be too thin elsewhere. When there was no medical orderly with a group out on a task, the responsibility for casualties would transfer to the senior military officer, whose knowledge of first aid was sketchy to say the least. All the officers went on a first-aid course before going in, but with little time and the soldier’s usual lack of interest in medical matters, expectations of benefits were not high.

  Extract from Colonel Officer’s medical report:

  ‘An “Air Base Set” of medical supplies was designed as a standard 3-month reserve for each brigade. Field experience revealed that the set was severely understocked in the drugs used to treat diarrhoea and dysentery, foot diseases, and helminthic worm infestations. The special medical panniers and haversacks which the columns carried soon needed replacement. None were available and improvised substitutes had to be hurriedly produced. (helminthic – intestinal)

  ‘Bandages must (in future) be coloured green or khaki. On more than one occasion a white bandage has been made the target of a sniper’s bullet and has been the direct cause of more than one man’s death.’

  Bill Lark: ‘We took our mules into the river Ken and swam them around, and went on marches together. Mules are hardworking and hardy, but they’re not pets. They don’t start off trusting you and being docile. You have to build a relationship, and some of them can be stroppy. Very stroppy.

  ‘Anyway, the muleteers were each given a Sten gun. The rest of the boys had rifles, much heavier, and there was one Bren gun per section. And we trained to get used to K rations, although you never could get used t
o them.’

  The emergency K rations were American, designed to be used for short periods only. The Chindits would exist on them for months. Basic and frugal though they were, at least they were an improvement on the cheese and biscuits given to the first expedition. Standard issue was fifteen packets; three a day for five days. The breakfast packet, for example, as officially described in its US version, contained a tinned meat product, biscuits, a compressed cereal bar, soluble coffee, a fruit bar, chewing gum, sugar tablets, three cigarettes, water-purification tablets, three sheets of lavatory paper, a can opener and a wooden spoon. Dinner and supper were very similar but without the lavatory paper. Dinner had a canned cheese product, biscuits, a candy bar, gum, bouillon powder, sugar, salt tablets, cigarettes and matches. The supper packet had meat again, rather than cheese.

  The biscuits, beverages, sugar, fruit bar and so on, were packaged in a laminated cellophane bag while the canned-meat and cheese products were put in a chipboard sleeve-type box. The two units were assembled and sealed in a waxed carton enclosed in the non-waxed outer carton labelled with the K ration design and colour.

  The Chindit version seems to have been packed without the chewing gum and water purification tablets.

  As Bill Lark remembered it: ‘You got a packet in a wax wrapper, about nine inches long and four and a half wide, and in it there was a little tin of some kind of meat. According to what it said on the tin there were various different sorts, but they were all just slight variations on Spam. Then there was a little thing of sugar, and two or three biscuits, and a chocolate bar or a squashed up fruit sort of bar, and three cigarettes. And a coffee sachet.

  ‘We used to crumple up the waxy cardboard and set fire to it. You held your tin mug over the top and got your water a bit warm that way, with your coffee powder. Then you dunked your milk bag, which was powder in a muslin bag supplied separately, in and out. It went into a lump, so you could give it a little squeeze and save it for next time. One of your three daily packets had soup powder instead of coffee, like you’d use an Oxo cube now. You never got any tea, except occasionally in the supply drop the lads back at base would put some in. Really it was just snacks. Not filling.’

  Or, as another Chindit put it: ‘We had two conditions – one in which we felt unfed, the other in which we were unfed.’

  Many of the men developed cravings for the simple things of life, like buttered toast, a boiled egg, apple pie or, in times without water, the idea of a cold beer. The thought that such were freely available at home was enough to drive a man near to madness.

  Colonel Officer:

  ‘Rations suitable for our particular type of warfare are not yet available and will not become so before the beginning of the next campaigning season. If it had not been for the K-type ration, the modern (British) ration would have differed in no way from that of the last war. While there is no doubt that the importance of a good ration for the fighting soldier has been appreciated for more than a century – commencing with the world famous Napoleonic dictum – little effort has been made by those responsible to implement this. It has been left to the Medical Services to introduce nutritional experts on to the staffs of Armies in an attempt to stimulate interest and research in this important subject.

  ‘For this type of warfare certain principles in the provision of a diet are indisputable and absolutely essential. First, it must be light in weight and of reasonable size and shape. It must be packed in one-man, one-meal units. It must be calorifically sufficient, well-balanced, and must contain a full complement of vitamins. Lastly, it must be made in a sufficient number of variants to avoid monotony.

  ‘The importance of a sufficient diet with the necessary variability to stimulate interest in its consumption cannot be overemphasised and there is no doubt whatsoever that diet in itself has an enormous effect on morale.

  ‘American K type ration is without doubt the best that has been produced yet, and though monotonous, is less so than any of the other types, for it does make some attempt at variety, which none of the others do.

  ‘Every opportunity for giving a change should be seized, and whenever a column gets into a stronghold a ration other than the one upon which it has been living should be sent in at once. Amongst the articles of this, pickles, sauces, etc., must be prominent.’

  Note that this was written after the event. No Jock, in a stronghold or otherwise, had recollections of pickles, sauces etc. Occasionally, the standard air drop of K boxes would have British extras with it. Corned beef came in a new form, at pouring consistency. Tinned fruit in syrup was a delight but it did nothing good for the digestive system. Sometimes there was an issue of rum. Sometimes there would be the British ‘compo ration’, designed for groups of men up to fourteen, and which came in large tins and packets; the contents to be shared. The tins were too heavy to carry, so the men tended to eat for tomorrow and the next day when such food was around, and it was the treat of treats when they could heat up some of the famous Maconochie stew. This delicacy, familiar to members of all the British armed forces including POWs in receipt of Red Cross parcels, was made by Maconochie Brothers, contractors to the War Office and suppliers of rations – tinned meat and vegetables – during the Boer War and onwards. The statement on the label, ‘The meat in this tin is prepared in its natural juices’, caused much discussion.

  Excerpt from a post-expedition report:

  ‘Malnutrition. Approximately 1 month after their withdrawal from Burma, 34 cases of deficiency in the vitamin B complex had been admitted to hospital, seven cases from 14 Brigade, the remaining 27 being distributed between 77 and 111 Brigades. All cases occurred among B.O.R.s (British Other Ranks, as opposed to officers, Gurkhas, West Africans, Burrifs).

  ‘Of the seven patients admitted from 14 Brigade, all suffered from multiple neuritis. A previous history of malaria was volunteered in six cases, and three had suffered from jungle sores.

  ‘It is of interest to note that the neuritis did not develop until almost 1 month after the substitution of Compo and later the Rehabilitation, scales of rations. It is difficult to assess whether the above indications of malnutrition in these personnel of 14 Brigade were due to complications appearing after malaria, or were the sequelae of postdiphtheritic ulcerations. It is considered more likely, however, that the manifestations were occasioned by the bodily reserves of vitamin B becoming depleted during the lengthy period of existence on K rations, and the failure of the later diets to replace it in sufficient quantity.

  ‘Although the discovery of these cases of avitaminosis would seem to indicate that the vitamin content of the K ration is deficient, this is in fact not so, and those cases of avitaminosis which did occur, can only be attributed to the well-known fact that the men threw away or failed to eat some vitamin-containing part of the ration. While this cannot be condoned it can never be avoided, and it does indicate the absolute necessity of the inclusion in the ration of a separate multi-vite tablet.’

  Of the twenty-seven severe malnutrition cases from 111 and 77 Brigades, most had symptoms of lassitude, muscular weakness and anorexia.

  ‘One of the most striking manifestations was the extreme degree of mental depreciation in these patients. Lassitude and, in some cases, even inability to move was marked. Depression was severe, and orientation and concentration were also affected.’

  David Rose: ‘Roosevelt and Churchill knew nothing about jungle warfare, and the general staff knew about the same amount. My friend Bernard Fergusson had been on the first Chindit operation and he told me what to expect. The most important thing of all was to prevent disease, particularly malaria. Fever and marching cannot go together. We had a pill to take every day, and any man who didn’t take it was in effect condemning himself, because he would become a casualty, and casualties could well get left behind. Part of the problem was the talk about the pill making you impotent. Nonsense, but men will believe nonsense.’

  Extract from Colonel Officer’s medical report:

  ‘Ta
bs Mepacrine Hydrochlor were always available in sufficient quantities from 16 Indian Depot Medical Stores, but the issue to columns was perhaps the most difficult problem encountered by the Brigade Medical Unit. Some brigades endeavoured to include tablets in ration drops, whereas others left it to column medical officers to indent for their requirements, but both of these methods led to a great deal of duplication in issues and still reports were received that suppressive Mepacrine was not being received by the columns.

  ‘Assuming that many men in the Force would contract malaria, the Force could survive only if its men took daily doses (0.1 gram tablets) of Mepacrine. Fergusson reports an occasion when one of the columns exhausted its supply for a short period of time. A notable upsurge of malaria cases followed soon afterward. However, the massive breakout of malaria in the Force occurred late in the campaign, when deficiencies in the supply of Mepacrine were unlikely.’

  As Fergusson himself wrote later:

  ‘In one respect we had the wrong attitude to malaria: we looked on it as inevitable; we believed that we were all bound to get it every so often. Good work and propaganda by commanders, doctors, officers and men elsewhere has shown that this is by no means true. But in one respect we had the right attitude, in that we never treated malaria as a disease meriting evacuation.’

  David Rose: ‘I think we quite enjoyed the training. We were a team, even the mules, doing it all against time. And there was the air support. We had never imagined having our own bombers on call. Ordinary life, though, was very basic to say the least. There were no privileges for officers, not like on the first trip. I heard about one officer on that who rode on his horse most of the time and kept a luxury bedroll by his saddle. Oh no. Everybody ate the same food, carried the same loads, slept on the same bare ground with one blanket each. Any extras in the supply drops were shared out. Anybody not pulling his weight was letting the side down.’ (Note: not every column was as punctilious about social equality as Major Rose’s.)