Stilwell the Patriot

by David Rooney

  Stilwell and Mountbatten, in spite of some brisk exchanges, cooperated well on the strategy in north Burma, but during the early days of SEAC and in his role as Supreme Commander Mountbatten had other battles to fight. His senior army and airforce commanders had informed him that it was not possible to supply forward units by air, that they objected to giving any support to Wingate and the Chindits, and that it was not possible to fight during the monsoon. Mountbatten also had to cope with the preoccupation of the Chiefs of Staff with other plans – such as an attack on Sumatra or the Andaman Islands – and he knew that a major effort in Burma was not their top priority. It is immensely to the credit of Mountbatten and Slim, whose strengths complemented each other, that they overcame the defeatist and negative attitudes of their subordinate commanders and fashioned the Fourteenth Army into one of the most successful British armies of the Second World War.

  Soon Stilwell, Slim and Mountbatten were to be forced together into the closest co-operation by the positive actions of General Mutaguchi. As commander of the Japanese Fifteenth Army in Burma, he was operating from his HQ in Maymyo in the very buildings where Stilwell had met Alexander, Wavell and Wingate at the start of the retreat in 1942. Initially, Mutaguchi had under his command 18 Division led by General Tanaka, which faced Stilwell in the north, 56 Division facing Yoke Force in the east, and 33 Division facing the British on the Chindwin. The British may have been inclined to ignore the importance of Wingate’s first Chindit expedition in March 1943, but Mutaguchi later conceded that it had changed his entire strategic thinking. Wingate had shown that it was possible for units to attack across the main north–south grain of the rivers and mountains of Burma. This, together with intelligence of the British build-up at Imphal, convinced Mutaguchi that he must attack Imphal and Kohima to pre-empt a British offensive.

  Thus was conceived Mutaguchi’s grand strategy. He planned a three-division attack: 33 Division under General Yanagida to advance towards Imphal from the south against 17 Indian Division, which had fought in the retreat but was now substantially retrained and re-equipped; 15 Division under General Yamauchi, together with units of the Indian National Army recruited from Indian prisoners of war, to attack Imphal in two prongs from the east; and, most significantly, 31 Division under General Sato, which was to advance rapidly northwestwards to capture Kohima and then advance to Dimapur, the huge supply base – eleven miles long and a mile wide – which provided for the whole of the Fourteenth Army as well as Stilwell’s forces. Mutaguchi intended that as soon as Kohima and Dimapur were captured his victorious forces, accompanied by the Indian National Army and its leader, Subhas Chandra Bose, would advance into Bengal where the down-trodden people would rise up, throw out the British and support his triumphant ‘March on Delhi’. It is rarely realised how close to success Mutaguchi came in this grand plan, which would also have cut off Stilwell’s forces from all contact with the west. An incorrect decision by an otherwise outstanding Japanese commander and the selfless bravery of two Indian and British units at Sangshak and Kohima alone thwarted his plan. His idea of sending off his units with one month’s rations and supplies because they would capture plenty at Dimapur became a significant factor in their ultimate defeat.

  Mutaguchi’s three-division attack on Imphal and Kohima illustrates the significance of the weather and the phases of the moon in modern warfare. The first Japanese troops crossed the Chindwin on the night of 5 March. One young Japanese soldier recorded his fear and anguish when, as they reached the west bank of the river, they heard the thunder of the armada of aircraft flying eastwards to launch the Chindits’ Operation Thursday. Independently, both sides had chosen the identical date to launch their operations.

  Mutaguchi’s plan also created a crisis for Stilwell, Slim and Mountbatten. The Ha Go offensive in the Arakan failed disastrously, but it forced Slim to divert two of his reserve divisions from Imphal to the Arakan. This was the main purpose of the attack, and it was soon to have its effect on the situation at Imphal. As the Japanese advanced towards Imphal and Kohima, 33 Division faced serious opposition as it moved up the Tiddim road and 15 Division had to fight hard to advance up the hills towards Shenan, but Sato and 31 Division made dangerously threatening progress towards Kohima.

  At this critical moment Mountbatten flew in to see Stilwell and to restore good relations. Stilwell’s comments remained critical. He observed that whereas his forces had four fighter planes for their battle, Mountbatten was escorted by sixteen. ‘Louis has been up but doesn’t like the smell of corpses … Louis and I get along famously even if he does have curly eyelashes.’ American commentators have generally repeated the question that was asked at the time: how could the Fourteenth Army, which for nearly two years had been preparing to advance and attack the Japanese, be plunged into crisis by the approach of three Japanese divisions? Stilwell, still driving forward the advance down the Hukawng valley and demonstrating that the Japanese could be beaten in jungle fighting, was appalled at the prospect of the loss of Kohima and Dimapur, which would put an end to all his plans.

  During Mountbatten’s visit to the Hukawng valley a trivial incident threatened to impinge on major policy matters. He was driving in a jeep when the branch of a tree swung back and seriously injured his left eye. He was rushed to the nearest American hospital, where he was kept in complete darkness for five days. This happened just when the crisis over the Japanese drive to Kohima was at its height. After five days he discharged himself, against medical advice, and flew to Comilla to see Slim. Here, as Supreme Commander, but after consulting the Chiefs of Staff, he made the decision to transfer thirty aircraft from the Hump operation to fly 5 Indian Division back from the Arakan to bolster the defences of Kohima and Dimapur. The Chiefs of Staff agreed with this proposal, thinking it was better to use the aircraft where they were urgently needed in battle than to support Chiang, who still refused to order Yoke Force to attack. There is little doubt that the airlift of the division by the USAAF and the RAF played a vital role in the defence of Kohima and Dimapur, but even with these reinforcements they were in dire peril.

  In the Hukawng valley Stilwell listened apprehensively to news of the unfolding drama around Kohima, knowing that the outcome would affect him decisively and at the same time having to fend off Chiang’s fury at the reduction in the tonnage going over the Hump. The first act of the drama to come took place at a little-known Naga village, Sangshak, about forty miles northeast of Imphal. The 50th Indian Parachute Brigade had just moved to Sangshak to complete its jungle training. They were ill prepared for action – they had brought the silver for the officers’ mess but no tin hats – and their divisional HQ failed to pass on intelligence about the rapidly approaching Japanese. One of the brigade’s Gurkha battalions did not arrive at Sangshak because there was no transport. Then on 19 March the Japanese attacked with nearly one thousand men.

  Major General Miyazaki, the capable and aggressive commander of the leading regiment of Sato’s 31 Division, had been ordered to drive forward as fast as possible to Kohima, and on the way his unit passed fairly close to Sangshak. Miyazaki was ambitious and conceited. Like Mutaguchi he despised the British and Indian enemy forces and expected to sweep them aside as he had done in 1942. He therefore decided that rather than leave a brigade-strength garrison athwart his lines of communication – and to add to his glory – he would pause to capture Sangshak before proceeding to Kohima. This was to prove a grave and costly mistake that influenced the outcome of the Burma war.*

  The Japanese attacked the leading Indian company at Sangshak on 19 March. The men resisted stubbornly until they ran out of ammunition and were overwhelmed. For seven days the Indian, Gurkha and Maharatta units resisted the Japanese attacks, often in hand-to-hand fighting. On 26 March divisional HQ ordered them to fight their way out, and they found a jungle path which enabled them to slip away. The tough Miyazaki was appalled at the carnage at Sangshak, and he insisted that prisoners and wounded receive good treatment. The effect of the s
even-day delay and the more than 50 per cent casualty rate on this leading Japanese regiment will shortly be seen.

  An incident at the battle for Sangshak that influenced the situation in Kohima illustrates the importance of intelligence in war. During the fighting a Japanese officer was found with 31 Division’s detailed plans, including its proposed attack on Kohima. A brave British officer slipped through enemy lines and got this vital information to corps HQ at Imphal on 25 March. Slim, however, never received the crucial intelligence that the whole of 31 Division was advancing rapidly towards Kohima. Three days later, on 28 March, he held a critical conference in Imphal and made decisions based on the assumption that there would only be a battalion-strength attack on Kohima. This grave blunder at corps HQ could have had catastrophic consequences both for Slim’s forces and for the whole of the American supply system supporting Stilwell’s divisions lying north of Dimapur.

  While the battered survivors of Sangshak sought the safety of their own lines, and while Slim conferred in Imphal, 5 Indian Division from the Arakan was being bundled into the Dakotas that Mountbatten had transferred from duties on the Hump supply route. In a remarkably successful operation, during which the Dakotas flew round the clock, two brigades – complete with weapons and supplies – were landed at Imphal by 27 March and one at Dimapur by 1 April. By 28 March the Japanese advance had cut off Imphal, and from then on the whole of IV Corps could only be supplied by air.

  In the final days of March 1944 the leading units of Sato’s 31 Division continued their rapid advance towards Kohima and Dimapur, but on the British side there was muddle, if not chaos. The defence of Kohima was to centre on the 4th Battalion of the Royal West Kents, a pre-war Territorial Army unit. They were part of 5 Indian Division and had been heavily engaged in the fighting around the Admin Box in the Arakan. Suddenly when they thought they might be taken out of the line for a rest, they were rushed to an airstrip, put into Dakotas with their weapons, transport and mules, and landed at Dimapur from where they were marched to Kohima. Then Slim was involved in a decision whether, in view of the rapid Japanese advance, to give priority to the defence of Dimapur or of Kohima. Because of the crucial role of the vast supply base at Dimapur for the supply of Stilwell’s forces it was decided to give it priority. This decision involved a hurried transfer of the Royal West Kents from Kohima back to Dimapur. Then, because reinforcements from the British 2 Division arrived earlier than expected, the Royal West Kents were sent back to Kohima. ‘The fury, frustration and the language of the soldiers can be imagined.’* As the battalion moved towards Kohima they encountered hordes of terrified refugees fleeing before the advancing Japanese troops. On 5 April, in an atmosphere ‘of sullen fury at the way they had been buggered about’, they reached Kohima and reoccupied the slit trenches they had started to dig just days before.

  This incident has been dealt with in some detail to illustrate the significance of Miyazakis decision to attack Sangshak and of its week-long defence by 50 Indian Parachute Brigade. During the remaining hours of 5 April the Royal West Kents frantically prepared their defences, and at 0400 hours the following morning the Japanese attacked and captured Naga village, only a mile from Kohima. Thus, if it had not been held up for seven days at Sangshak, 31 Division would have been able to attack Kohima at a time when it had almost no serious defence and when Dimapur was equally defenceless.

  Although the Royal West Kents had arrived back in Kohima with just hours to spare before the Japanese attack, the chances of holding up the enemy advance seemed remote and the threat to Dimapur remained dire. There seemed little hope that a single British battalion and a few units of the Assam Regiment could hold up the whole of Sato’s tried, experienced and successful 31 Division.

  The chaos, orders and counter-orders that left the Royal West Kents urgently trying to complete their defences on 6 April 1944 were the inauspicious start to one of the epic sieges of the Second World War. Very rapidly Kohima was completely surrounded and the defences were established on a series of fairly steep hills overlooking the main road. Central to the defence was the deputy commissioner’s bungalow and its terraced grounds, including a tennis court which until a short time before had been the scene of relaxed and elegant tennis parties. Suddenly it became the centre of ferocious hand-to-hand fighting, with British and Japanese soldiers hurling grenades across the court. For thirteen desperate days the Royal West Kents and the Assam Regiment units held out against the assaults of Japanese artillery, mortar and machine-gun fire and constant infantry attack. The defenders were gradually driven back into an enclave less than 500 yards long. Close to despair, with food and ammunition running out, they watched horrified as the supplies from an air drop floated gently over to the Japanese lines. On the morning of 15 April, when total collapse was imminent, they noticed a change in the sound and pattern of gunfire and realised that the 25-pounders of the British 2 Division, which had been fighting hard to advance to their rescue, had come within range. Later that day the shattered and emaciated survivors staggered down the hill and were taken away in lorries and ambulances as fresh and well-supplied battalions from 2 Division replaced them.

  This was a seminal moment in the Burma war. It halted the Japanese, and they never again made a major advance. Suddenly the threat to Dimapur was removed, and the dire peril faced by all of Stilwell’s forces, from Ledo to the Hukawng valley, was removed, and Mutaguchi’s ambitious plans for a triumphal march on Delhi were destroyed.

  The prolonged crisis at Imphal and Kohima prompted Mountbatten to request Roosevelt and Churchill to renew the pressure on Chiang to order Yoke Force into the attack. Roosevelt sent a strong plea and was infuriated when Chiang sent a dishonest and evasive reply to the effect that he could do nothing because of the threats in the north from both the Japanese and the Communists. When Stilwell heard of this he determined to make a final effort himself to get Chiang to attack with Yoke Force, and he flew to Chungking on 27 March. This mission failed, but he did succeed in obtaining Chiang’s promise of two more Chinese divisions to assist in the advance to Myitkyina, and these were in fact forthcoming. Stilwell was so alarmed at the grave threat to his whole position posed by the Japanese advance to Kohima that as soon as he returned from Chungking he had an urgent meeting with Mountbatten and Slim. This took place on 3 April. In view of the threat to the British position, he offered Slim the use of 38 Division under General Sun, who had worked well with Slim during the retreat in 1942. Although on that day the outcome of the Japanese attack on Kohima was not yet decided, Slim, confident that the advance could be held, refused the offer. Stilwell returned from the meeting and ordered an all-out effort to drive the Japanese back to Kamaing. He then discovered that – as he had suspected for some time – Chiang was secretly communicating with the commanders of the two divisions he had provided telling them not to attack unless he gave permission.

  Roosevelt then wrote again, suggesting bluntly that, surely, Yoke Force, which had been armed, equipped and trained by America, and which was facing a severely weakened Japanese division, should now advance. The President added that, if Yoke Force did not attack, the strenuous American efforts in providing arms, equipment and personnel ‘have not been justified’. Chiang rarely replied to a serious rebuke, and there was no answer to Roosevelt, but feeling in Washington rose dramatically – veering strongly towards Stilwell’s more realistic view. He had written to Marshall – a tower of strength as ever – and received a reply that, unless Yoke Force attacked, the supplies taken over the Hump should stop. Wisely, this threat was not made directly to Chiang but was negotiated at a lower level. This ploy prevented a serious loss of face for Chiang, and it succeeded. On 16 April the order was given for Yoke Force to advance, and it was announced that this was a Chinese initiative made without any outside pressure.

  To understand Stilwell’s situation, his consistent aim to reach Myitkyina and the factors which influenced this, it is necessary to consider the wider strategic position around Imphal and t
he dates of the different actions. By the end of 1943, under a rigorous programme of retraining and re-equipment, Slim had built up the Fourteenth Army. In February 1944 he had to decide whether to advance from Imphal and attack the Japanese across the Chindwin or whether to entice them forward towards the Imphal plain where their lines of communication would be stretched to the limit and where his artillery, tanks and air support could be used most effectively. This plan, which was strategically sound but had fierce critics, was pre-empted by Mutaguchi’s three-division attack, which started on 5 March. The Japanese, as we have seen, moved more swiftly than expected and created the crisis at Kohima, where they were held up from 6 to 18 April.

  While 31 Division advanced to Kohima, Mutaguchi launched a two-pronged attack on Imphal. 33 Division moved to the Tiddim road to attack Imphal from the south. The British there made serious errors. 17 Indian Division, according to Slim’s overall strategy, should have carried out an orderly retreat towards Imphal. Scoones, the commander of IV Corps, delayed giving the order, and as a result 17 Division found itself in a bloody fight along seventy miles of road. Slim was always ready to take the blame for the shortcomings of his subordinate commanders and admitted his own mistakes. He took the blame for this blunder although it was clearly Scoones’ fault. The effect of Scoones’ delay was compounded by the understandable anger of 17 Division, which had established a clear dominance over the Japanese in the relatively static situation around Tiddim and was looking forward to a triumphal advance. By the end of March 1944, 17 Indian Division had retreated to Bishenpur on the edge of the perimeter defences at Imphal. It had sustained heavy casualties but had inflicted far heavier casualties on General Yanagida’s 33 Division. Even before the end of March Yanagida had stated that there was no possibility of capturing Imphal in three weeks – as Mutaguchi planned – and that Mutaguchi’s entire plan was absurd.