Chapter 194, Umphang, Siam, 1630 30 April 1942
The village had once been tranquil. On a natural bend of a small river it was little more than a convenient collection of farms. It was sheltered from the elements by hills to the North and South, and with adequate soil, roads nearby and a small, friendly, hardworking community, it was a good place for an honest man to till the soil.
The Japanese came first. Part of a large, flanking, arc rising inland from the coast and moving deep into the country, to fall upon the British lines of supply and cut off the advancing XII Corps from reinforcement and their logistics. Their troops were enthusiastic, eager, and ready to plunge upon what they had been told were the lavish luxuries of their decadent British foes.
But the Commonwealth forces were ready; the Royal Air Force had radioed their reconnaissance reports to the British. With XII Corps fully committed and terribly vulnerable, the orders came down from Auchinleck himself: every available man to be deployed to counter the threat. And so the village, newly overrun with Japanese infantrymen, was in the centre of the Royal Artillery’s area of bombardment as Major-General Dorman-Smith, leading a Burmese Division, launched the Bhutanse and Nepalese troops guarding the vulnerable frontier against the Japanese toops in the village. As the Artillery fired everything they could to halt to the Japanese advance, their Asian allies rushed to take the burning hamlet.
But if the Himalayan troops were keen, the Japanese were seasoned. Letting them get close, they opened fire with deadly accuracy, slaughtering the inexperienced British allies as they advanced across the lush, open farmland. Pinned, taking cover wherever they could, cohesion was soon lost as the panicked infantrymen simply fended for themselves. The British counterattack had stalled.
For Major-General ‘Chink’ Dorman-Smith, the failure of these allied troops to repel the Japanese couldn’t have come at a worse time. His own Division, 2nd Burmese, was spread throughout the region guarding key points of the boundaries between the Commonwealth and Japanese troops. Having committed his deployable reserve, the three divisions of Nepalese and Bhutanese troops, he was playing for time whilst his Burmese brigades formed up.
He was racing to the front now, having sent an evasively optimistic message to General Auchlineck, who was far away on the China/Burma border. “Am holding the Japanese attempt to outflank and encircle XII Corps. A salutary tale caused by Anderson’s failure to watch his exposed left flank” he had written. He knew that Anderson was briefing against him to the General, but knew that if he could pull off this success it would be ‘Chink’ who would be the toast of the Army HQ, not the dour, aloof Anderson. The Nepalese and Bhutanese had started the success, though Dorman-Smith raged about their lack of progress against an enemy that he viewed with contempt. But if they had failed to overcome the Japanese then they had, at least, stopped the Japanese flanking move. And now his Burmese would show Auchineck who ought to be commanding his Southern thrust. And as the GOC of 2nd Burmese, Dorman-Smith would be there, so that every officer would know.
“How long?” He asked this of one of his divisional officers.
“Soon, Sir. Brigadier Pugh is preparing his men for the assault now.”
The sounds of battle were still rumbling from the nearby front. An Army truck thundered into the clearing where Dorman-Smith had his HQ, disturbing the quiet fixation with which the staff of 2nd Burmese were watching the battle.
“General Anderson’s compliments,” a dirty major said in a rushed voice, “but he would appreciate an update.”
Dorman-Smith rounded on the major. “You may tell the General,” he said in a sharp voice, “that I am saving the attack upon his flank!”
The major, a well-bred and intelligent officer who found the chaotic dispositions of the Burmese troops a disgrace, bit his lower lip and fought to contain his reaction. “May I ask why we weren’t told about this?”
“I’ve sent men,” Dorman-Smith felt that he was on the verge of a great victory. This uppity major was irritating him and he turned away abruptly.
“General Anderson,” the major began, “is continuing his advance. Even if I leave now it will take me four hours to rejoin Twelve Corps. Four hours in which he will have exposed his flanks even more!”
“Then go,” Dorman-Smith said with an accompanying dismissive wave. The major, not bothering to even salute, spun on his heels and stalked to his truck. When he was on his way Dorman-Smith chuckled at the man’s attitude. But he was nervous, wanting his men to be attacking the enemy, and began to fidget impatiently. “Are we attacking yet?”
“The Burmese are just in position now, Sir, Brigadier Pugh is readying them.”
“Send them now, attack!”
“But Sir...”
“...but nothing, but bloody nothing. Anderson might be an old woman but I am not. Let them go!”
The young recruits of the 2nd Burmese Division, blooded earlier in the campaign, now sheepishly crept forward to the beleagured divisions clinging on to their positions.
“See!” Dorman-Smith waved a hand luxuriantly in the direction of the engagement to rescue the Nepalese and Bhutanese. “We’re driving them off! Ha!” Dorman-Smith was shaking with excitement. “Send a signal to the C in C. Tell him we’ve saved the campaign in the South.”
The staff weren’t answering their boss, but were staring at the awful sights now greeting them. As the Burmese had moved hesitantly forward their flanks had exploded in fire and smoke. The Japanese had brought some of their Type 94 tankettes and these now began to encircle the slower Burmese. As the staff watched in trepidation, 2nd Burmese began to inch their way to safety, to their own centre, yielding more territory to the Japanese and allowing the Japanese further room for encirclement.
“Tell them to push on the flanks,” Dorman-Smith’s early happiness was ebbing, for he had seen the danger and knew that his troops had little with which they could stop their foe. Faced with this knowledge he impotently clenched a fist. “Stop bunching in the centre,” he wailed.
In the end Brigadier Pugh, leading the assault, saved the Burmese. Making the decision alone, he knew that Dorman-Smith would blame him for the failed attacked. For the Burmese the order, once given, was seized upon instantly and enthusiastically and the Burmese, Nepalese and Bhutanese, now intermingled with each other and the Indian, West-African and British support troops of the force, flooded over the Siamese plains and back towards their own lines. Lacking any fresh infantry formations, Dorman-Smith ordered his 25 pounders to commence a frenetic and ill-coordinated bombardment. But a few shots found their targets as some of the pursuing tankettes exploded dramatically, seemingly taking the fighting spirit out of the Japanese who peeled away to their own lines.
As the sun set on a bloody day, Dorman-Smith stalked angrily through the tired lines of battered troops.
“Something went wrong today,” Dorman-Smith said to no-one in particular as he strode angrily through the dejected lines of infantry. “Pugh buggered it up. I want an immediate investigation into the Burmese attack. D’you hear?” He stopped suddenly, glaring at his staff. “Because Auchinleck isn’t going to like a failure.”
[Game Effect] – Sorry, more bad news, as a ragtag collection of Burmese, Bhutanese and Nepalese infantry attempt to check a Japanese movement to cut off Anderson and XII Corps. The Japanese don’t try again, but the attack comes at the expense of the org (and sadly a fair bit of strength) for all but 2nd Burmese, who survive mostly intact.
This is Dorman-Smith’s ‘high noon’, the battle he so wanted has come and he failed at the crucial moment. Auchinleck, who placed him in so sensitive command, has again shown an odd inability to select capable subordinates (something that was to plague him OTL) and will have to give the campaign along the coast greater attention. The sacrifice of these units aside, there is much to be pleased with – Anderson, for all his dilatoriousness, has actually managed to invade Siam and offensive operations along the Northern tip of Siam have been going well for some time under the capable Major-General Erskine. Dorman-Smith has weakened the Commonwealth forces, but will the Japanese be in a position to exploit this?
Kurt_Steiner: And the Tory benches!
Trekaddict: I think that the loss of Yamato hasn’t been particularly well ‘handled’ by the Government: there’s too much going on for the frankly overwhelmed Cabinet to deal with.
Zhuge Liang: The lasting irony of the Halifax Government is that the war has prolonged, rather than curtailed, his time in office.
Sir Humphrey: Many thanks, many thanks!
El Pip: I think that having got over the first hurdle, that of actually meeting the Americans, the British will do reasonably in future negotiations.
Enewald: The Empire is in for trouble whatever happens.
Arilou: I’ll craft an update.
Nathan Madien: Brilliant! Played by Mel Gibson in the dire 2003 remake.
DonnieBaseball: I think Morrison is probably in the best position if Attlee goes.
Sir Humphrey: I’m not sure that Cripps would do well: though it would polarise British politics.
El Pip: (shudders)
The village had once been tranquil. On a natural bend of a small river it was little more than a convenient collection of farms. It was sheltered from the elements by hills to the North and South, and with adequate soil, roads nearby and a small, friendly, hardworking community, it was a good place for an honest man to till the soil.
The Japanese came first. Part of a large, flanking, arc rising inland from the coast and moving deep into the country, to fall upon the British lines of supply and cut off the advancing XII Corps from reinforcement and their logistics. Their troops were enthusiastic, eager, and ready to plunge upon what they had been told were the lavish luxuries of their decadent British foes.
But the Commonwealth forces were ready; the Royal Air Force had radioed their reconnaissance reports to the British. With XII Corps fully committed and terribly vulnerable, the orders came down from Auchinleck himself: every available man to be deployed to counter the threat. And so the village, newly overrun with Japanese infantrymen, was in the centre of the Royal Artillery’s area of bombardment as Major-General Dorman-Smith, leading a Burmese Division, launched the Bhutanse and Nepalese troops guarding the vulnerable frontier against the Japanese toops in the village. As the Artillery fired everything they could to halt to the Japanese advance, their Asian allies rushed to take the burning hamlet.
But if the Himalayan troops were keen, the Japanese were seasoned. Letting them get close, they opened fire with deadly accuracy, slaughtering the inexperienced British allies as they advanced across the lush, open farmland. Pinned, taking cover wherever they could, cohesion was soon lost as the panicked infantrymen simply fended for themselves. The British counterattack had stalled.
For Major-General ‘Chink’ Dorman-Smith, the failure of these allied troops to repel the Japanese couldn’t have come at a worse time. His own Division, 2nd Burmese, was spread throughout the region guarding key points of the boundaries between the Commonwealth and Japanese troops. Having committed his deployable reserve, the three divisions of Nepalese and Bhutanese troops, he was playing for time whilst his Burmese brigades formed up.
He was racing to the front now, having sent an evasively optimistic message to General Auchlineck, who was far away on the China/Burma border. “Am holding the Japanese attempt to outflank and encircle XII Corps. A salutary tale caused by Anderson’s failure to watch his exposed left flank” he had written. He knew that Anderson was briefing against him to the General, but knew that if he could pull off this success it would be ‘Chink’ who would be the toast of the Army HQ, not the dour, aloof Anderson. The Nepalese and Bhutanese had started the success, though Dorman-Smith raged about their lack of progress against an enemy that he viewed with contempt. But if they had failed to overcome the Japanese then they had, at least, stopped the Japanese flanking move. And now his Burmese would show Auchineck who ought to be commanding his Southern thrust. And as the GOC of 2nd Burmese, Dorman-Smith would be there, so that every officer would know.
“How long?” He asked this of one of his divisional officers.
“Soon, Sir. Brigadier Pugh is preparing his men for the assault now.”
The sounds of battle were still rumbling from the nearby front. An Army truck thundered into the clearing where Dorman-Smith had his HQ, disturbing the quiet fixation with which the staff of 2nd Burmese were watching the battle.
“General Anderson’s compliments,” a dirty major said in a rushed voice, “but he would appreciate an update.”
Dorman-Smith rounded on the major. “You may tell the General,” he said in a sharp voice, “that I am saving the attack upon his flank!”
The major, a well-bred and intelligent officer who found the chaotic dispositions of the Burmese troops a disgrace, bit his lower lip and fought to contain his reaction. “May I ask why we weren’t told about this?”
“I’ve sent men,” Dorman-Smith felt that he was on the verge of a great victory. This uppity major was irritating him and he turned away abruptly.
“General Anderson,” the major began, “is continuing his advance. Even if I leave now it will take me four hours to rejoin Twelve Corps. Four hours in which he will have exposed his flanks even more!”
“Then go,” Dorman-Smith said with an accompanying dismissive wave. The major, not bothering to even salute, spun on his heels and stalked to his truck. When he was on his way Dorman-Smith chuckled at the man’s attitude. But he was nervous, wanting his men to be attacking the enemy, and began to fidget impatiently. “Are we attacking yet?”
“The Burmese are just in position now, Sir, Brigadier Pugh is readying them.”
“Send them now, attack!”
“But Sir...”
“...but nothing, but bloody nothing. Anderson might be an old woman but I am not. Let them go!”
The young recruits of the 2nd Burmese Division, blooded earlier in the campaign, now sheepishly crept forward to the beleagured divisions clinging on to their positions.
“See!” Dorman-Smith waved a hand luxuriantly in the direction of the engagement to rescue the Nepalese and Bhutanese. “We’re driving them off! Ha!” Dorman-Smith was shaking with excitement. “Send a signal to the C in C. Tell him we’ve saved the campaign in the South.”
The staff weren’t answering their boss, but were staring at the awful sights now greeting them. As the Burmese had moved hesitantly forward their flanks had exploded in fire and smoke. The Japanese had brought some of their Type 94 tankettes and these now began to encircle the slower Burmese. As the staff watched in trepidation, 2nd Burmese began to inch their way to safety, to their own centre, yielding more territory to the Japanese and allowing the Japanese further room for encirclement.
“Tell them to push on the flanks,” Dorman-Smith’s early happiness was ebbing, for he had seen the danger and knew that his troops had little with which they could stop their foe. Faced with this knowledge he impotently clenched a fist. “Stop bunching in the centre,” he wailed.
In the end Brigadier Pugh, leading the assault, saved the Burmese. Making the decision alone, he knew that Dorman-Smith would blame him for the failed attacked. For the Burmese the order, once given, was seized upon instantly and enthusiastically and the Burmese, Nepalese and Bhutanese, now intermingled with each other and the Indian, West-African and British support troops of the force, flooded over the Siamese plains and back towards their own lines. Lacking any fresh infantry formations, Dorman-Smith ordered his 25 pounders to commence a frenetic and ill-coordinated bombardment. But a few shots found their targets as some of the pursuing tankettes exploded dramatically, seemingly taking the fighting spirit out of the Japanese who peeled away to their own lines.
As the sun set on a bloody day, Dorman-Smith stalked angrily through the tired lines of battered troops.
“Something went wrong today,” Dorman-Smith said to no-one in particular as he strode angrily through the dejected lines of infantry. “Pugh buggered it up. I want an immediate investigation into the Burmese attack. D’you hear?” He stopped suddenly, glaring at his staff. “Because Auchinleck isn’t going to like a failure.”
[Game Effect] – Sorry, more bad news, as a ragtag collection of Burmese, Bhutanese and Nepalese infantry attempt to check a Japanese movement to cut off Anderson and XII Corps. The Japanese don’t try again, but the attack comes at the expense of the org (and sadly a fair bit of strength) for all but 2nd Burmese, who survive mostly intact.
This is Dorman-Smith’s ‘high noon’, the battle he so wanted has come and he failed at the crucial moment. Auchinleck, who placed him in so sensitive command, has again shown an odd inability to select capable subordinates (something that was to plague him OTL) and will have to give the campaign along the coast greater attention. The sacrifice of these units aside, there is much to be pleased with – Anderson, for all his dilatoriousness, has actually managed to invade Siam and offensive operations along the Northern tip of Siam have been going well for some time under the capable Major-General Erskine. Dorman-Smith has weakened the Commonwealth forces, but will the Japanese be in a position to exploit this?
Kurt_Steiner: And the Tory benches!
Trekaddict: I think that the loss of Yamato hasn’t been particularly well ‘handled’ by the Government: there’s too much going on for the frankly overwhelmed Cabinet to deal with.
Zhuge Liang: The lasting irony of the Halifax Government is that the war has prolonged, rather than curtailed, his time in office.
Sir Humphrey: Many thanks, many thanks!
El Pip: I think that having got over the first hurdle, that of actually meeting the Americans, the British will do reasonably in future negotiations.
Enewald: The Empire is in for trouble whatever happens.
Arilou: I’ll craft an update.
Nathan Madien: Brilliant! Played by Mel Gibson in the dire 2003 remake.
DonnieBaseball: I think Morrison is probably in the best position if Attlee goes.
Sir Humphrey: I’m not sure that Cripps would do well: though it would polarise British politics.
El Pip: (shudders)
