The Wingate Appreciation Booklet
Booklet front cover.
The Wingate Appreciation Booklet was published by COCA in 1982 as a reaction to the negativity found in books and the national press in regards to General Wingate and his performance as a commander in the field.
In a letter dated May 1983, Chindit Old Comrades Association President, Brigadier W. P. Scott wrote:
As an Old Comrades Association, our primary objective has been to attend to the welfare of our members and refrain from controversial disputes concerning our campaigns in Burma during 1943 and 1944, or the personalities involved.
However, some sections of the various Official Reports on the war in Burma, several authors and a number of letters in the national press, have contained comments which were not only contemptuous of General Wingate, but also offensive and often baseless and unsubstantiated by evidence. During the course of a meeting in London, our then patron, Lord Mountbatten, stated that he fully understood our policy of refraining from entering the public domain on controversial matters. He endorsed this policy, at the same time as understanding our deep concern.
We realise that such an exceptional soldier and field commander as General Wingate cannot be immune from controversy. Nevertheless, we felt that the voice of his men should also be heard by future generations. Thus, with the full backing of Lord Mountbatten in 1979, our document, The Wingate Appreciation was born. It gives the views of a cross-section of all ranks who served under General Wingate. It will, hopefully, provide an instrument for future historians to consider and balance against the opinions of writers who did not have the opportunity to know General Wingate closely.
Shown below are fifteen personal testimonies from the soldiers that fought under General Wingate during the first Chindit expedition and how they felt about him as a leader and his methods.
In a letter dated May 1983, Chindit Old Comrades Association President, Brigadier W. P. Scott wrote:
As an Old Comrades Association, our primary objective has been to attend to the welfare of our members and refrain from controversial disputes concerning our campaigns in Burma during 1943 and 1944, or the personalities involved.
However, some sections of the various Official Reports on the war in Burma, several authors and a number of letters in the national press, have contained comments which were not only contemptuous of General Wingate, but also offensive and often baseless and unsubstantiated by evidence. During the course of a meeting in London, our then patron, Lord Mountbatten, stated that he fully understood our policy of refraining from entering the public domain on controversial matters. He endorsed this policy, at the same time as understanding our deep concern.
We realise that such an exceptional soldier and field commander as General Wingate cannot be immune from controversy. Nevertheless, we felt that the voice of his men should also be heard by future generations. Thus, with the full backing of Lord Mountbatten in 1979, our document, The Wingate Appreciation was born. It gives the views of a cross-section of all ranks who served under General Wingate. It will, hopefully, provide an instrument for future historians to consider and balance against the opinions of writers who did not have the opportunity to know General Wingate closely.
Shown below are fifteen personal testimonies from the soldiers that fought under General Wingate during the first Chindit expedition and how they felt about him as a leader and his methods.
Cpl. George Bell.
Corporal George W. Bell: 1943 Campaign, 13 King's Regiment 77 Brigade. Section Commander.
I can only write about the first Chindit Campaign and apart from what I have read in recent years, I am in no position to comment on the broader aspects of the second campaign. Perhaps, however, the following points might help:
1. In India, in 1942, it was a widely held belief, from the top brass to the ordinary soldier, that the Japanese were invincible in the jungle. General Wingate took an ordinary infantry battalion, very few of whom had ever seen action and, within a few months, turned them into a force which kept a substantial number of Japanese at full stretch in 1943.
2. He proved to both the 13 King's and the world at large, that the British soldier could not only exist in the worst possible conditions on minimum rations, but that he could also live off the land at times and still fight and keep up his morale. He proved that, in every situation, he was better than the Japanese.
3. He was not afraid to experiment in a type of warfare new to the British soldier and set a marvellous example by never asking the lower ranks to take any risk he would not share in himself.
4. He was probably the first of the breed of generals who mixed with their men and shared their discomforts both in training and in action. I personally saw him dozens of times between 1942 and 1943 and I can vouch for the fact that this certainly kept up morale.
5. He gave the impression that he had no fear of death and in the tricky situations in which we found ourselves, this was a shining example to us all.
6. Finally, he instilled into all who went with him into Burma in 1943, a pride that, thirty-six years later, enables us with all humility to state loud and clear, "I served with a great man in General Wingate."
I can only write about the first Chindit Campaign and apart from what I have read in recent years, I am in no position to comment on the broader aspects of the second campaign. Perhaps, however, the following points might help:
1. In India, in 1942, it was a widely held belief, from the top brass to the ordinary soldier, that the Japanese were invincible in the jungle. General Wingate took an ordinary infantry battalion, very few of whom had ever seen action and, within a few months, turned them into a force which kept a substantial number of Japanese at full stretch in 1943.
2. He proved to both the 13 King's and the world at large, that the British soldier could not only exist in the worst possible conditions on minimum rations, but that he could also live off the land at times and still fight and keep up his morale. He proved that, in every situation, he was better than the Japanese.
3. He was not afraid to experiment in a type of warfare new to the British soldier and set a marvellous example by never asking the lower ranks to take any risk he would not share in himself.
4. He was probably the first of the breed of generals who mixed with their men and shared their discomforts both in training and in action. I personally saw him dozens of times between 1942 and 1943 and I can vouch for the fact that this certainly kept up morale.
5. He gave the impression that he had no fear of death and in the tricky situations in which we found ourselves, this was a shining example to us all.
6. Finally, he instilled into all who went with him into Burma in 1943, a pride that, thirty-six years later, enables us with all humility to state loud and clear, "I served with a great man in General Wingate."
Major James Charles Bruce MC.
Major James Charles Bruce, M.C. & Bar: 1943 Campaign, 2 Burma Rifles, 77 Brigade. 1944 Campaign, 2 York & Lancaster Regiment, 14 Brigade.
General Wingate impressed me right from our first meeting. I had been appointed Recce Officer to General Wingate along with Captain Buchanan, Captain Herring and Captain Griffiths.
I duly arrived at the General's Head Quarters, and remember having a look around, when I met an officer with a pith helmet on his head, wearing no badges of rank, but with a penetrating look. “Can you swim?”, was his first remark. “Yes”, I replied. “Well, swim that river,” pointing to a stream which ran through the camp and about thirty yards wide. “As I am, Sir?” I asked, to which he replied “Of course.” So, I waded in and swam across and back complete with rifle, boots etc. “Well done, go and get changed.”
I found out later, that you were never in any doubt when given an order by General Wingate. Orders were direct, to the point, and very definite. I very well remember the remarks, none too complimentary, which were flying around as all the officers went into Head Quarters for a briefing by Wingate. This was held in Imphal Golf Clubhouse (just before the first expedition). The floors were covered by maps pinned to the floor by gramophone needles, very painful to walk on! No-one was allowed in the briefing room without removing his boots. After the briefing was over, you would have thought that a totally different bunch of officers emerged. Conversation was enthusiastic and what we were going to do really did now seem possible. We all felt a sense of purpose, and not a word was heard against General Wingate.
Major George P. Carne: 1943 Campaign, 2 Burma Rifles, 77 Brigade.
The Burma Rifles having been in both Chindit Campaigns were naturally very closely attached to General Wingate. We were still feeling the traumatic effect of the 1942 withdrawal from Burma and we were not always uncritical of training methods, tactics and equipment, before the start of the 1943 Chindit Campaign.
However, long lectures from Brigadier Wingate as he then was, and seemingly always during the heat of the day, changed our morale completely. No-one other than Orde Wingate would have even kept us awake in such circumstances. During both 1943 and 1944, there were numerous occasions when Burma Riflemen were within easy distance of their homes and yet they still returned to India ready for more. Surely such devotion could only have come from inspired leadership.
Corporal Alfred Creasey: 13th King’s Regiment (Infantryman).
The greatest leader of them all!
General Wingate impressed me right from our first meeting. I had been appointed Recce Officer to General Wingate along with Captain Buchanan, Captain Herring and Captain Griffiths.
I duly arrived at the General's Head Quarters, and remember having a look around, when I met an officer with a pith helmet on his head, wearing no badges of rank, but with a penetrating look. “Can you swim?”, was his first remark. “Yes”, I replied. “Well, swim that river,” pointing to a stream which ran through the camp and about thirty yards wide. “As I am, Sir?” I asked, to which he replied “Of course.” So, I waded in and swam across and back complete with rifle, boots etc. “Well done, go and get changed.”
I found out later, that you were never in any doubt when given an order by General Wingate. Orders were direct, to the point, and very definite. I very well remember the remarks, none too complimentary, which were flying around as all the officers went into Head Quarters for a briefing by Wingate. This was held in Imphal Golf Clubhouse (just before the first expedition). The floors were covered by maps pinned to the floor by gramophone needles, very painful to walk on! No-one was allowed in the briefing room without removing his boots. After the briefing was over, you would have thought that a totally different bunch of officers emerged. Conversation was enthusiastic and what we were going to do really did now seem possible. We all felt a sense of purpose, and not a word was heard against General Wingate.
Major George P. Carne: 1943 Campaign, 2 Burma Rifles, 77 Brigade.
The Burma Rifles having been in both Chindit Campaigns were naturally very closely attached to General Wingate. We were still feeling the traumatic effect of the 1942 withdrawal from Burma and we were not always uncritical of training methods, tactics and equipment, before the start of the 1943 Chindit Campaign.
However, long lectures from Brigadier Wingate as he then was, and seemingly always during the heat of the day, changed our morale completely. No-one other than Orde Wingate would have even kept us awake in such circumstances. During both 1943 and 1944, there were numerous occasions when Burma Riflemen were within easy distance of their homes and yet they still returned to India ready for more. Surely such devotion could only have come from inspired leadership.
Corporal Alfred Creasey: 13th King’s Regiment (Infantryman).
The greatest leader of them all!
Major George D. Dunlop MC.
Major George Dunlop, M.C.: 1943 Campaign, 3/2 Gurkha Rifles, 77 Brigade No. 1 Column Commander.
I first heard of Wingate while serving with my Regiment in Palestine during 1938. I applied to join his "Night Squads", but was turned down because the only other subaltern in my company was already away on special duties. In Wingate, I saw a leader who knew how to deal with the rebels, by taking the war into their own territory and by night where possible. In my view, we were getting nowhere at that time, and most of us were hopeless at night operations.
As a boy, instead of doing my school "prep", I used to walk and cycle every night, so learned to find my way about in the dark, which I found friendly, not frightening. Later, this was most useful. Within the limits set by my superiors, I emulated Wingate as best I could. At the risk of boasting, there was some success. My platoon earned more medals than the rest of the Company, and the Company earned more than the rest of the Battalion - not that there were many medals going. Our Commanding Officer didn't believe in them.
When Wingate turned up again in my life (1942), I thought that I was ready to serve under his command. There was, however, one peculiar incident. Wingate had arrived in Burma, early in 1942, to give some cohesion to the work of all the "private" armies operating there. At the time, along with Mike Calvert and other future Chindits, I was at the Bush Warfare School at Maymyo, waiting to go to China to join others already there with the Chinese guerrillas. The school itself had been taken over by Army Head Quarters, Burma. Mike brought Wingate into lunch, and stood at the end of the room obviously pointing us out to Wingate who looked us over, one by one. His gaze met mine and a cold shiver ran down my spine, a thing that had never happened to me before, and hasn't happened since - and I have met plenty of the world's great men in my time. This was most obviously a very unusual man.
In the ensuing weeks, we saw a lot of each other, often travelling alone together through the Shan States, and what an interesting and demanding companion he was. I was interrogated on a lot of subjects from Hebrew, my days in Palestine, and my ideas on the sort of warfare he was already planning for the reconquest of Burma. This, even before we had been driven out of the country, completely by the Japanese!
I soon learned how kind and considerate he could be. At the same time, I could see that he would pursue his ends with most unusual ruthlessness. While always caring for his men and animals, he required them to do what was expected of them, and to the best of their ability. If they would not, they were discarded. The same applied to machinery, and I have many anecdotes about his treatment of cars.
At this time, I discovered a most important side to his character. One must never tell him that he could not do something, or that something could not be done, especially where rules and regulations were concerned. For example, one unfortunate officer told him that he wasn't allowed to drive a certain car. Well, he did drive it until he hit a tree and then abandoned the officer and the wreck, while he cadged a lift to his destination. By the time this event occurred, I had discovered how to stop him from driving - just sit firmly in the driver's seat and very politely open the passenger door. He always took the hint with a smile.
Our first Burma days ended when I drove him to Lashio to catch a plane for India. He said something like “There is only one seat: you shall make your own way to India and report to me there.” Hard, perhaps, but it made sense. He often used the imperative shall, giving emphasis to what he wanted.
In India, many weeks later, Mike Calvert and I were at Ranchi with the remnants of the Bush Warfare School, when we received a summons to go to Delhi. I was in hospital with jaundice, which I couldn't throw off for several months, but I went with Mike just the same. One did not disobey Wingate, that was the measure of the man. In Delhi, Wingate told us what he had been doing since our last meeting, what he was planning to do, and what he was up against. He then asked us to join him, but had taken it for granted that we would. Business over, he looked at me and said "You should be in hospital." And I was, within the hour.
Much has been said about our days and months of training. I have only a little to add. Too much has been written about its toughness and hardship. We were being prepared for operations against a tough enemy in a hard environment and that about sums up my views. Only those who were soft themselves would have considered it any differently. Off duty showed Wingate in another light. He loved to discuss all sorts of topics, especially by the camp fire at night. With his powerful character and intellect, some might think that he always liked to have the last word. This was not necessarily so, and he was always ready to concede an argument if someone put up a better case than he did.
Back to serious matters, Wingate had the gift sadly lacking in many of today's so-called leaders of keeping us informed, interested and enthusiastic. We were about to set out on what must have seemed to many to be a suicidal mission, yet such was the man's influence over others that few appeared to give this aspect a second thought. If Wingate thought it worthwhile, then it must be. A few outstanding people have the gift of visualising a whole course of events with great clarity. Wingate was one of them. Listening to his briefings, we could picture it all happening. The final briefing at Imphal, before the 1943 Campaign, was very much of this order. Later, in Burma, we just knew what to do – because we had been told already! I cannot possibly speak for everyone under my command. Anyway, there are few of them around now, but I can recount one little story which shows what confidence Wingate inspired.
No.2 Column had broken the rules and had paid dearly for its mistakes at Kyaikthin. The remnants of that Column, and of Group HQ, were with us later on the west bank of Irrawaddy wondering how on earth to get across the river with 500 men, and 100 horses and mules, plus all their equipment. Some British aircraft swept up the river looking for stray country boats that might be helping the Japanese - nothing to do with our operations and, in any case, the pilots were quite oblivious of our presence. Someone, I think John Jeffries, asked "What do we do now?" An immediate retort came from Edmunds, our RAF officer from New Guinea. "Call up the old man (Wingate). He'll tell you how J.C. did it." Well, we couldn't raise Wingate on the radio, but we did get across - this time despite the Japanese aircraft.
What happened in the Shweli triangle has been told by others. My Column never met up with Wingate, and always had great difficulty in communicating by radio. However, we got our final order, "Turn back not whence ye came, but seek thy salvation in the mountains." At the time, we knew little of what the main body of the Brigade was doing, but my opinion was that Wingate had ordered us eastwards to cover the Brigade's withdrawal over the Irrawaddy. This opinion seems to have been shared by a number of historians, not all of whom were uncritical of Wingate for his apparent ruthlessness. However, I said so long ago, and I say again, that it was the sort of unpleasant but justifiable decision that commanders must make in war. The good ones take such decisions, whereas the bad ones funk them. Wingate never funked the unpleasant, at least never in my experience. Anyway, half of us survived.
I have tried to give a picture of a man of great intellect, often remote from his fellows, sympathetic towards those willing to try and willing to learn, intolerant of fools, no matter what their status; a man capable of great kindness and humanity, always considerate of his men, and yet capable of driving them to the limits of their ability. He was a man willing to share the hardships of his men.
Long ago, we used to be taught the "Principles of War", among them the "Maintenance of the Objective". Wingate gave us our objectives, taught us how to achieve them, but never tied us down to a rigid set of ideas. Personal initiative was an essential for all who served under his command. Perhaps the word "faith" is a key to the man. Faith in God, and faith in his own ability to carry out his allotted task. As with us all, there were moments of deep depression and loss of this faith, but at the time of his death, faith had become the conviction that we were right in our undertaking and that we should succeed.
Armourer Staff Sergeant Arthur Charles Elam, M.M.: 1943 Campaign, R.E.M.E.
General Wingate was, and always will remain, a born leader. He knew his men and spoke to them as such, but unfortunately, he did not live to see his ambitions accomplished. I, as well as others, owe our lives to the General, and he will always be remembered by the Chindits, especially the Gurkhas, as a great Commander.
Captain Joseph Michael Gillow: 1943 Campaign, Platoon Commander, 13 King's Regiment 77 Brigade.
Several times since being asked to contribute to a general appreciation of General Orde Wingate, I have taken up my pen only to put it down again in the belief that a gap of approaching forty years is too long a time to cast one’s mind back; furthermore, the conditions under which we live today are so different as to make those days, long ago in Burma, almost unreal. But, above all, the greatest deterrent I felt was that, with so much having already been written of this extraordinary man, one's own views could have become, to a degree, distorted.
Journalists, historians, call them what you will, and I am neither, inevitably find it easier to be destructive in their critical analysis than constructive, and the interest in their writings is enhanced by the magnification of the unusual, and Wingate gave ample opportunity for that! Wingate "Well he was bananas anyway" was a comment recently passed to me by a retired Army Officer, which made me think again. There seemed a most definite need to put the record straight, and correct the serious misunderstandings implanted in people's minds.
His family background with his military training, as an Artillery Officer, carried out according to the manual, should have produced a perfectly normal Regular Army Officer, but it didn't. For Wingate was no ordinary man, and, at heart, an "Independent Guerrilla Leader", something which did not exactly endear him to many of his contemporaries, regardless of their ranks.
There were of course, those who possibly because they were themselves extroverts, were drawn by his personal magnetism and gave him unqualified support and, yet again, there were those many non-professional soldiers involved in the war, for the duration, frustrated by the confines of the regulated life, who saw in him the opportunity to break away in search of something different. Sadly, paying the supreme sacrifice high up in the Naga hills, he never lived to see, in post-war years, the successes achieved in countries throughout the world by small guerrilla bands operating against forces superior in numbers and equipment to their own. For this was the very essence of his belief; that a small well-trained force, operating independently behind enemy lines, could wreak havoc with supply lines and, by assault from the rear, be of invaluable help to an Army in advance.
The arrival at Imphal, of 77 Indian Infantry Brigade was to provide Wingate with his first major decision of the Burma War. Told then that the Army was in no condition to advance, he was faced with the decision to go in on his own, or hold off for another year. I mention this not to chronicle the war, but to underline one of his greatest attributes - the complete self-confidence he had in his own ability which, inevitably, brushed off on those whom he commanded. It was this which, more than any other consideration, determined his decision to enter Japanese-occupied Burma in 1943, without the support he had anticipated.
Such was the remarkable influence that Wingate had on his men, that this reversal in their fortunes never gave rise, at any level of rank, to any thought that his decision might be erroneous. This was significantly underlined when General Wavell, breaking with custom, took the unusual step of announcing that he, alone, would salute as the troops resumed their onward march towards the Chindwin River. At that time, in 1943, the Japanese Imperial Army had swept victoriously through South-East Asia at remarkable speed. Their advance into India, was only halted by the monsoons, and a necessary period of digestion and re-grouping.
The crossing of the Chindwin, and the penetration of Wingate's Columns deep into enemy-occupied Burma, was a brilliantly executed achievement with the ultimate objective of the spectacular destruction of the Gokteik Viaduct (pictured below), far to the south-east on the borders of China. To achieve this, Wingate had to cross the Irrawaddy. I have often speculated whether in fact, he knew that the Royal Air Force must experience considerable difficulties operating east of this great river. If he did, then his crossing was a ghastly error of judgement. If he didn't than someone else was at fault.
At this stage, he had proved beyond question, the military potential of his theories. He had exposed the weakness of the enemy occupation, and had provided the Allies with a much-needed boost in morale. Turning back now, he could have had every chance of withdrawing his troops thereby providing the valuable nucleus of an experienced force for a similar foray in the following year. Generals, I believe, can make mistakes and Wingate's crossing of the Irrawaddy, for whatever reason, was his greatest for nothing was achieved by it. Trapped in the sweeping curve of the river, unable to recross and outnumbered by superior enemy forces closing in from the south, Wingate's Columns disintegrated into small parties bereft of food and equipment and were ordered to get out as best they could - a task which many of them never managed to achieve.
Tough, resourceful and with a brilliant brain, he was no more demanding on his troops than he was on himself. If, necessarily, he put the lives of his men at risk, he took equal risks with his own. Unquestionably, he was a gallant and brave officer with abilities, both in physique and intelligence, far in excess of those of his fellow men. Through such as these have battles been won, countries conquered and Empires built, but such men are inevitably few and far between. Wingate, as we know, was prone to quote from the Bible, so let us, who served under him, to his critics say:
"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone, for this is the gospel of the Lord." I think Wingate would have liked that.
I first heard of Wingate while serving with my Regiment in Palestine during 1938. I applied to join his "Night Squads", but was turned down because the only other subaltern in my company was already away on special duties. In Wingate, I saw a leader who knew how to deal with the rebels, by taking the war into their own territory and by night where possible. In my view, we were getting nowhere at that time, and most of us were hopeless at night operations.
As a boy, instead of doing my school "prep", I used to walk and cycle every night, so learned to find my way about in the dark, which I found friendly, not frightening. Later, this was most useful. Within the limits set by my superiors, I emulated Wingate as best I could. At the risk of boasting, there was some success. My platoon earned more medals than the rest of the Company, and the Company earned more than the rest of the Battalion - not that there were many medals going. Our Commanding Officer didn't believe in them.
When Wingate turned up again in my life (1942), I thought that I was ready to serve under his command. There was, however, one peculiar incident. Wingate had arrived in Burma, early in 1942, to give some cohesion to the work of all the "private" armies operating there. At the time, along with Mike Calvert and other future Chindits, I was at the Bush Warfare School at Maymyo, waiting to go to China to join others already there with the Chinese guerrillas. The school itself had been taken over by Army Head Quarters, Burma. Mike brought Wingate into lunch, and stood at the end of the room obviously pointing us out to Wingate who looked us over, one by one. His gaze met mine and a cold shiver ran down my spine, a thing that had never happened to me before, and hasn't happened since - and I have met plenty of the world's great men in my time. This was most obviously a very unusual man.
In the ensuing weeks, we saw a lot of each other, often travelling alone together through the Shan States, and what an interesting and demanding companion he was. I was interrogated on a lot of subjects from Hebrew, my days in Palestine, and my ideas on the sort of warfare he was already planning for the reconquest of Burma. This, even before we had been driven out of the country, completely by the Japanese!
I soon learned how kind and considerate he could be. At the same time, I could see that he would pursue his ends with most unusual ruthlessness. While always caring for his men and animals, he required them to do what was expected of them, and to the best of their ability. If they would not, they were discarded. The same applied to machinery, and I have many anecdotes about his treatment of cars.
At this time, I discovered a most important side to his character. One must never tell him that he could not do something, or that something could not be done, especially where rules and regulations were concerned. For example, one unfortunate officer told him that he wasn't allowed to drive a certain car. Well, he did drive it until he hit a tree and then abandoned the officer and the wreck, while he cadged a lift to his destination. By the time this event occurred, I had discovered how to stop him from driving - just sit firmly in the driver's seat and very politely open the passenger door. He always took the hint with a smile.
Our first Burma days ended when I drove him to Lashio to catch a plane for India. He said something like “There is only one seat: you shall make your own way to India and report to me there.” Hard, perhaps, but it made sense. He often used the imperative shall, giving emphasis to what he wanted.
In India, many weeks later, Mike Calvert and I were at Ranchi with the remnants of the Bush Warfare School, when we received a summons to go to Delhi. I was in hospital with jaundice, which I couldn't throw off for several months, but I went with Mike just the same. One did not disobey Wingate, that was the measure of the man. In Delhi, Wingate told us what he had been doing since our last meeting, what he was planning to do, and what he was up against. He then asked us to join him, but had taken it for granted that we would. Business over, he looked at me and said "You should be in hospital." And I was, within the hour.
Much has been said about our days and months of training. I have only a little to add. Too much has been written about its toughness and hardship. We were being prepared for operations against a tough enemy in a hard environment and that about sums up my views. Only those who were soft themselves would have considered it any differently. Off duty showed Wingate in another light. He loved to discuss all sorts of topics, especially by the camp fire at night. With his powerful character and intellect, some might think that he always liked to have the last word. This was not necessarily so, and he was always ready to concede an argument if someone put up a better case than he did.
Back to serious matters, Wingate had the gift sadly lacking in many of today's so-called leaders of keeping us informed, interested and enthusiastic. We were about to set out on what must have seemed to many to be a suicidal mission, yet such was the man's influence over others that few appeared to give this aspect a second thought. If Wingate thought it worthwhile, then it must be. A few outstanding people have the gift of visualising a whole course of events with great clarity. Wingate was one of them. Listening to his briefings, we could picture it all happening. The final briefing at Imphal, before the 1943 Campaign, was very much of this order. Later, in Burma, we just knew what to do – because we had been told already! I cannot possibly speak for everyone under my command. Anyway, there are few of them around now, but I can recount one little story which shows what confidence Wingate inspired.
No.2 Column had broken the rules and had paid dearly for its mistakes at Kyaikthin. The remnants of that Column, and of Group HQ, were with us later on the west bank of Irrawaddy wondering how on earth to get across the river with 500 men, and 100 horses and mules, plus all their equipment. Some British aircraft swept up the river looking for stray country boats that might be helping the Japanese - nothing to do with our operations and, in any case, the pilots were quite oblivious of our presence. Someone, I think John Jeffries, asked "What do we do now?" An immediate retort came from Edmunds, our RAF officer from New Guinea. "Call up the old man (Wingate). He'll tell you how J.C. did it." Well, we couldn't raise Wingate on the radio, but we did get across - this time despite the Japanese aircraft.
What happened in the Shweli triangle has been told by others. My Column never met up with Wingate, and always had great difficulty in communicating by radio. However, we got our final order, "Turn back not whence ye came, but seek thy salvation in the mountains." At the time, we knew little of what the main body of the Brigade was doing, but my opinion was that Wingate had ordered us eastwards to cover the Brigade's withdrawal over the Irrawaddy. This opinion seems to have been shared by a number of historians, not all of whom were uncritical of Wingate for his apparent ruthlessness. However, I said so long ago, and I say again, that it was the sort of unpleasant but justifiable decision that commanders must make in war. The good ones take such decisions, whereas the bad ones funk them. Wingate never funked the unpleasant, at least never in my experience. Anyway, half of us survived.
I have tried to give a picture of a man of great intellect, often remote from his fellows, sympathetic towards those willing to try and willing to learn, intolerant of fools, no matter what their status; a man capable of great kindness and humanity, always considerate of his men, and yet capable of driving them to the limits of their ability. He was a man willing to share the hardships of his men.
Long ago, we used to be taught the "Principles of War", among them the "Maintenance of the Objective". Wingate gave us our objectives, taught us how to achieve them, but never tied us down to a rigid set of ideas. Personal initiative was an essential for all who served under his command. Perhaps the word "faith" is a key to the man. Faith in God, and faith in his own ability to carry out his allotted task. As with us all, there were moments of deep depression and loss of this faith, but at the time of his death, faith had become the conviction that we were right in our undertaking and that we should succeed.
Armourer Staff Sergeant Arthur Charles Elam, M.M.: 1943 Campaign, R.E.M.E.
General Wingate was, and always will remain, a born leader. He knew his men and spoke to them as such, but unfortunately, he did not live to see his ambitions accomplished. I, as well as others, owe our lives to the General, and he will always be remembered by the Chindits, especially the Gurkhas, as a great Commander.
Captain Joseph Michael Gillow: 1943 Campaign, Platoon Commander, 13 King's Regiment 77 Brigade.
Several times since being asked to contribute to a general appreciation of General Orde Wingate, I have taken up my pen only to put it down again in the belief that a gap of approaching forty years is too long a time to cast one’s mind back; furthermore, the conditions under which we live today are so different as to make those days, long ago in Burma, almost unreal. But, above all, the greatest deterrent I felt was that, with so much having already been written of this extraordinary man, one's own views could have become, to a degree, distorted.
Journalists, historians, call them what you will, and I am neither, inevitably find it easier to be destructive in their critical analysis than constructive, and the interest in their writings is enhanced by the magnification of the unusual, and Wingate gave ample opportunity for that! Wingate "Well he was bananas anyway" was a comment recently passed to me by a retired Army Officer, which made me think again. There seemed a most definite need to put the record straight, and correct the serious misunderstandings implanted in people's minds.
His family background with his military training, as an Artillery Officer, carried out according to the manual, should have produced a perfectly normal Regular Army Officer, but it didn't. For Wingate was no ordinary man, and, at heart, an "Independent Guerrilla Leader", something which did not exactly endear him to many of his contemporaries, regardless of their ranks.
There were of course, those who possibly because they were themselves extroverts, were drawn by his personal magnetism and gave him unqualified support and, yet again, there were those many non-professional soldiers involved in the war, for the duration, frustrated by the confines of the regulated life, who saw in him the opportunity to break away in search of something different. Sadly, paying the supreme sacrifice high up in the Naga hills, he never lived to see, in post-war years, the successes achieved in countries throughout the world by small guerrilla bands operating against forces superior in numbers and equipment to their own. For this was the very essence of his belief; that a small well-trained force, operating independently behind enemy lines, could wreak havoc with supply lines and, by assault from the rear, be of invaluable help to an Army in advance.
The arrival at Imphal, of 77 Indian Infantry Brigade was to provide Wingate with his first major decision of the Burma War. Told then that the Army was in no condition to advance, he was faced with the decision to go in on his own, or hold off for another year. I mention this not to chronicle the war, but to underline one of his greatest attributes - the complete self-confidence he had in his own ability which, inevitably, brushed off on those whom he commanded. It was this which, more than any other consideration, determined his decision to enter Japanese-occupied Burma in 1943, without the support he had anticipated.
Such was the remarkable influence that Wingate had on his men, that this reversal in their fortunes never gave rise, at any level of rank, to any thought that his decision might be erroneous. This was significantly underlined when General Wavell, breaking with custom, took the unusual step of announcing that he, alone, would salute as the troops resumed their onward march towards the Chindwin River. At that time, in 1943, the Japanese Imperial Army had swept victoriously through South-East Asia at remarkable speed. Their advance into India, was only halted by the monsoons, and a necessary period of digestion and re-grouping.
The crossing of the Chindwin, and the penetration of Wingate's Columns deep into enemy-occupied Burma, was a brilliantly executed achievement with the ultimate objective of the spectacular destruction of the Gokteik Viaduct (pictured below), far to the south-east on the borders of China. To achieve this, Wingate had to cross the Irrawaddy. I have often speculated whether in fact, he knew that the Royal Air Force must experience considerable difficulties operating east of this great river. If he did, then his crossing was a ghastly error of judgement. If he didn't than someone else was at fault.
At this stage, he had proved beyond question, the military potential of his theories. He had exposed the weakness of the enemy occupation, and had provided the Allies with a much-needed boost in morale. Turning back now, he could have had every chance of withdrawing his troops thereby providing the valuable nucleus of an experienced force for a similar foray in the following year. Generals, I believe, can make mistakes and Wingate's crossing of the Irrawaddy, for whatever reason, was his greatest for nothing was achieved by it. Trapped in the sweeping curve of the river, unable to recross and outnumbered by superior enemy forces closing in from the south, Wingate's Columns disintegrated into small parties bereft of food and equipment and were ordered to get out as best they could - a task which many of them never managed to achieve.
Tough, resourceful and with a brilliant brain, he was no more demanding on his troops than he was on himself. If, necessarily, he put the lives of his men at risk, he took equal risks with his own. Unquestionably, he was a gallant and brave officer with abilities, both in physique and intelligence, far in excess of those of his fellow men. Through such as these have battles been won, countries conquered and Empires built, but such men are inevitably few and far between. Wingate, as we know, was prone to quote from the Bible, so let us, who served under him, to his critics say:
"Let he who is without sin cast the first stone, for this is the gospel of the Lord." I think Wingate would have liked that.
The Gokteik Viaduct. Wingate's most easterly objective on Operation Longcloth.
Lt-Colonel Derek Clive Herring MC: 2nd Burma Rifles, 77 Brigade (1943) and Commander DAH Force (1944).
Very simply, General Orde Wingate inspired me as a leader, and I know that this was the effect he had on many of my contemporaries as well. After our experience of the thinking of the regular Army prior to, and during, the retreat from Burma in 1942, meeting Wingate was an invigorating experience, and our thoughts turned to the offensive in a positive way.
Before the war, I was a Burma civilian. Like some of the other wartime officers, I was a teak "wallah" and accustomed to living in the jungle. With others, I was posted to the Burma Rifles at the outset of the war, and it was very soon obvious that the Army was still thinking in terms of the North West Frontier. On training exercises at dusk and dawn the Battalion still formed a British square. At night, we shivered in shorts for the Army apparently hadn't thought of wearing long trousers! Communications were by runner, or signal lamp or plain flag-wagging for all to see.
I wasted three valuable months at Poona, learning just this. No consideration seemed to have been given to operating away from roads, or adapting our behaviour to the hills and forests which covered virtually the whole of Upper Burma, and much of Lower Burma as well. To many of us, this was quite incredible. Wingate was like a breath of fresh air. One of my earliest recollections of him was during one of his sand table exercises in the scrub jungle near Jhansi, shortly after 2nd Burma Rifles joined him in late 1942. He told me that my life was of no use to anyone and then proceeded to explain his theory of long-range penetration. To the Burma Rifle officers present who had been civilians in Burma, what he said made a lot of sense and we quickly realised that, in Wingate, we had a commander with imagination and seemingly the determination to put his ideas into practice. Unless one just disliked him at any price, and there were some of these, his enthusiasm was quite compelling.
General Wingate was not an easy man to follow. By regular Army standards, he was obviously eccentric, but he possessed that prized ability to inspire confidence in the minds of his subordinates. He was a hard taskmaster and, at times, appeared to be downright unreasonable. Notwithstanding this, things got done and, after a while as confidence built up, many of us came to regard him with a strange sort of affection.
When I first joined Wingate's 77 Brigade, I was still a relatively young man. Nevertheless, I do not think my admiration for Wingate amounted just to hero worship. Certainly, one was attracted by his eccentricity, but his whole concept of warfare in Burma was so refreshingly different to what we had become accustomed, that one felt compelled to follow him. Personally, I regarded General Wingate as a great man and was distressed and apprehensive as to the future of Special Force when the news of his death came through to us in the field in late March 1944. I felt as if a light had gone out which would be difficult to rekindle.
Colonel Herring gives a tactical debrief during training for Operation Thursday.
Pte. George Jones: 13th King’s, 77 Brigade in 1943.
I met General Wingate four times during our training period in India. I think he was one of the greatest and the bravest. I am proud to have served under him in the Chindit campaign of 1943.
Major John C. Long.
Major John C. Long: 77 Brigade in 1943 and 1st King’s in 1944.
I was privileged to take part in both of General Wingate's campaigns, though I need not have participated in either. That I did so does not presuppose any undue hankering after adventure on my part, nor was I too witless to find an easier job. It was simply that I was convinced, as I remain convinced today, of the integrity and ability of that great man Orde Wingate.
Due to a quirk in military postings, myself, together with other officers in my particular draft, found ourselves unemployed in India during the spring of 1942. Our host unit, a regular British battalion (2nd Green Howard's), was kindness itself, but not unnaturally looked forward to a return to their normal regimental life on our departure. They were, therefore, not displeased to announce one day, that there was an odd character called Wingate in the jungle near Saugor who might find jobs for some of us. Accordingly, we repaired to Patharia, near Saugor, where we disturbed Brigadier (as he then was) Wingate addressing an audience seated in a four-sided amphitheatre formed by steps leading down to a disused well.
Clearly annoyed at the interruption, he bade us be seated, and continued with his exposition on long-range penetration groups. It was then that I, and indeed the majority of our particular draft, decided that Orde Wingate was the man for us, as I still feel thirty-eight years later. Why? It was certainly not any kind of charisma on his part, for even on further acquaintance I found him a prickly, rather than an easy individual. It was not purely his eloquence for oratory, albeit helpful. It was, I am convinced, the way his undoubted ability came over, and the feeling he gave that here was an honest man whom one could trust, and who would not let one down if one threw one's lot in with him. Such proved to be the case.
The word leadership, or lack of it, is in the 1980’s a much-overused word, whether applied to the Church, the State, industry, the Armed Forces, the police or other facets of national life. It seems almost trite to say that Orde Wingate was a great and natural leader, but such he was. His leadership, or power of communication was not confined to any particular group of followers. He came across to officers and soldiers alike, no matter how diverse their backgrounds, or whether their skins were coloured black, white, brown or yellow.
Each of us felt that any communication from Orde Wingate, whether verbal or written, was addressed to us personally. He behaved as senior officers are meant to behave, but sometimes don't. As the senior officer present, he took the rap from higher authority when something went wrong, even though the fault was that of a subordinate (the subordinate would not of course, escape unscathed). He never asked anybody to do something he couldn't do himself, or have a damned good try at doing himself. This in many cases involved tremendous mental guts on his part, for his physique, per se, was certainly not robust enough to match the immense physical demands he made upon it.
His physical presence in any given situation, even a brief visit, was always an inspiration to all ranks present, any language barrier notwithstanding. To revert to that overused word leadership. In a lifetime, one is lucky to meet but one or two great leaders of men, and Orde Wingate was one such. Of those who served with him in Burma, of whatever rank, race, colour or creed, there can be few who would not follow him again. I certainly would, either on or off the battlefield.
Pte. Wellington Mercer: 1943 Campaign, 13th King's Regiment, 77 Brigade.
There is no-one in the world who should be critical of General Wingate. He was a leader of men who never asked a soldier to do anything he had not done himself. He marched at the head of his Column with his revolver, a rifle and a jungle knife, just like the rest of us. I remember him telling an officer to take a certain path into a village, but he went a different way and lost a lot of his men. When he returned to the Column, he was immediately reduced in rank. Wingate, you see, knew the path he had picked was safe because he had reconnoitred it himself just a few hours before.
As a jungle fighter, he knew more than some of the natives and of course he had studied ways and means of living off the land. Many a time I heard him say that you could live off the land by watching what birds ate. Even though we were hungry, wet, tired, exhausted and in great difficulties, we won through due to his and the other officers' teaching. From the day I was demobbed, I have never heard a man say a bad word of our leader. But for his death in an air crash, he might have been Commander-in-Chief of all our forces.
Pte. A.J. Power: 1943 Campaign, 13th King's Regiment, 77 Brigade. 1944 Campaign, 1st Lancashire Fusiliers, 77 Brigade.
I first saw General Wingate when we were crossing the Chindwin in 1943, when I was with the 13 King's Regiment; the next time was in 1944 before going into the "White City" block with 20 Column, 1st Lancashire Fusiliers.
My impression of General Wingate was that of a soldier who feared nobody. He was the most inspiring Field Commander of the time and the greatest expert in jungle warfare. If he had lived, he would have developed into an even greater leader. I have nothing further to add, except to say that I am proud to have served under him. His name is still a living legend to all who served in the Burma Campaigns.
I was privileged to take part in both of General Wingate's campaigns, though I need not have participated in either. That I did so does not presuppose any undue hankering after adventure on my part, nor was I too witless to find an easier job. It was simply that I was convinced, as I remain convinced today, of the integrity and ability of that great man Orde Wingate.
Due to a quirk in military postings, myself, together with other officers in my particular draft, found ourselves unemployed in India during the spring of 1942. Our host unit, a regular British battalion (2nd Green Howard's), was kindness itself, but not unnaturally looked forward to a return to their normal regimental life on our departure. They were, therefore, not displeased to announce one day, that there was an odd character called Wingate in the jungle near Saugor who might find jobs for some of us. Accordingly, we repaired to Patharia, near Saugor, where we disturbed Brigadier (as he then was) Wingate addressing an audience seated in a four-sided amphitheatre formed by steps leading down to a disused well.
Clearly annoyed at the interruption, he bade us be seated, and continued with his exposition on long-range penetration groups. It was then that I, and indeed the majority of our particular draft, decided that Orde Wingate was the man for us, as I still feel thirty-eight years later. Why? It was certainly not any kind of charisma on his part, for even on further acquaintance I found him a prickly, rather than an easy individual. It was not purely his eloquence for oratory, albeit helpful. It was, I am convinced, the way his undoubted ability came over, and the feeling he gave that here was an honest man whom one could trust, and who would not let one down if one threw one's lot in with him. Such proved to be the case.
The word leadership, or lack of it, is in the 1980’s a much-overused word, whether applied to the Church, the State, industry, the Armed Forces, the police or other facets of national life. It seems almost trite to say that Orde Wingate was a great and natural leader, but such he was. His leadership, or power of communication was not confined to any particular group of followers. He came across to officers and soldiers alike, no matter how diverse their backgrounds, or whether their skins were coloured black, white, brown or yellow.
Each of us felt that any communication from Orde Wingate, whether verbal or written, was addressed to us personally. He behaved as senior officers are meant to behave, but sometimes don't. As the senior officer present, he took the rap from higher authority when something went wrong, even though the fault was that of a subordinate (the subordinate would not of course, escape unscathed). He never asked anybody to do something he couldn't do himself, or have a damned good try at doing himself. This in many cases involved tremendous mental guts on his part, for his physique, per se, was certainly not robust enough to match the immense physical demands he made upon it.
His physical presence in any given situation, even a brief visit, was always an inspiration to all ranks present, any language barrier notwithstanding. To revert to that overused word leadership. In a lifetime, one is lucky to meet but one or two great leaders of men, and Orde Wingate was one such. Of those who served with him in Burma, of whatever rank, race, colour or creed, there can be few who would not follow him again. I certainly would, either on or off the battlefield.
Pte. Wellington Mercer: 1943 Campaign, 13th King's Regiment, 77 Brigade.
There is no-one in the world who should be critical of General Wingate. He was a leader of men who never asked a soldier to do anything he had not done himself. He marched at the head of his Column with his revolver, a rifle and a jungle knife, just like the rest of us. I remember him telling an officer to take a certain path into a village, but he went a different way and lost a lot of his men. When he returned to the Column, he was immediately reduced in rank. Wingate, you see, knew the path he had picked was safe because he had reconnoitred it himself just a few hours before.
As a jungle fighter, he knew more than some of the natives and of course he had studied ways and means of living off the land. Many a time I heard him say that you could live off the land by watching what birds ate. Even though we were hungry, wet, tired, exhausted and in great difficulties, we won through due to his and the other officers' teaching. From the day I was demobbed, I have never heard a man say a bad word of our leader. But for his death in an air crash, he might have been Commander-in-Chief of all our forces.
Pte. A.J. Power: 1943 Campaign, 13th King's Regiment, 77 Brigade. 1944 Campaign, 1st Lancashire Fusiliers, 77 Brigade.
I first saw General Wingate when we were crossing the Chindwin in 1943, when I was with the 13 King's Regiment; the next time was in 1944 before going into the "White City" block with 20 Column, 1st Lancashire Fusiliers.
My impression of General Wingate was that of a soldier who feared nobody. He was the most inspiring Field Commander of the time and the greatest expert in jungle warfare. If he had lived, he would have developed into an even greater leader. I have nothing further to add, except to say that I am proud to have served under him. His name is still a living legend to all who served in the Burma Campaigns.
Colonel Walter Purcell Scott DSO, MC.
Lt-Colonel Walter Purcell Scott DSO, MC: No. 8 Column commander in 1943 and 1st Battalion, the King’s Regiment commander in 1944.
Wingate – A Lasting Impression
"Mighty Oaks from Little Acorns Grow."
I served under Major General Wingate from May 1942 until his death in March 1944. During this period, I was in General Wingate's presence when he had to make three vital decisions. Each one of these decisions could affect the lives of many men. It is not my intention to discuss whether or not these decisions were right, or wrong. I disagreed only with one, but agreed with the other two. I most certainly agreed with the final one. Because of his example and bearing on that occasion, General Wingate revealed himself to be a great leader, and left me with "a lasting impression."
The Acorn 1943:
During the 1943 Campaign, I commanded 8 Column. After Brigade H.Q. and 7 & 8 Columns had been ordered to disperse, following an opposed crossing of the Irrawaddy at Inywa, I took my Column east across the Shweli and then north to cross the Irrawaddy near Bhamo, using a Japanese supply junk we "borrowed" for a couple of hours. After crossing the river, our remaining mule which was carrying our last wireless set collapsed and died. Before smashing and burying the set, we sent a signal to base arranging for two supply drops on our intended route back to Assam. We had at this time, 17 or 18 wounded and sick men, who one knew would never survive the journey that lay ahead of us.
Late afternoon on the day before our first supply drop, we were some three miles from the R.V. given to the R.A.F. I was leading the Column through a teak forest when suddenly I found myself on the edge of a vast clearing. This clearing was over 1000 yards long and some 300 yards wide; the ground was level, hard and grass covered. The sudden realisation came to me that we had discovered a potential air-strip and at that time air-strips meant only one thing - air evacuation of the sick and wounded.
The plane arrived on time next morning and, before it had finished dropping our supplies, the pilot saw our request – made by using the first few parachutes dropped, we had written: PLANE LAND HERE NOW. The pilot attempted to land but failed due to some tall trees at one end of the dropping zone. However, two days later a gallant pilot and crew of 31 Squadron RAF, did land and within three hours all our wounded and sick comrades were in hospital at Imphal. Some weeks later I arrived in Imphal and, on meeting Brigadier Wingate, I told him I felt that a raiding party could be parachuted into our air-strip and use it as a base from which to raid the main railway during the coming monsoon. The Brigadier's reply was: “Scott your air-strip is now an acorn; I hope someday you will see the oak tree."
The Oak Tree (1944).
General Wingate kept his promise and not only did I see that acorn grow, I was fortunate enough to be part of the oak tree, which had grown from one Brigade, in 1943, to be a Special Force in 1944 of six Brigades with a bayonet strength greater than two Divisions. During the nine months that we had been growing in strength, General Wingate had journeyed to London, Quebec and Washington. He had returned with the best backing that the imagination and skills of our Allies could give him. Whilst in the U.S.A. he had been fortunate enough to have placed under his command No. 1 Air Commando U.S.A.A.F., commanded by Colonel Cochran. This force included fighters, bombers, gliders, transport planes and last, but by no means least, a light plane unit of almost 100 planes for the evacuation of our sick and wounded.
For all but a few of the sick and sounded the 1943 Campaign had been a one-way journey. These light planes were to change all that, as air evacuation had become a certainty. I know personally, that the care and fate of our sick and wounded was a great concern of General Wingate, as I had discussed it in detail with him on my return to Assam in 1943.
On 5th March 1944, I was commanding the advance guard, which was made up of 81 and 82 Columns of 1st King's Regiment. We were to be glider-borne troops along with Brigadier Calvert and his TAC HQ and an airfield construction section from Colonel Cochran’s force.
The plan was that my 81 Column was to be landed in the clearing used in 1943, now codenamed Piccadilly, to fly out my sick and wounded. 82 Column was to land by glider some thirty miles to the north in a similar clearing - codenamed Broadway. The role of these Columns was to clear the area of any enemy and to hold the ring, whilst the construction unit prepared the ground and wherever possible we were to assist in the preparation of these airstrips.
In the late afternoon, Colonel Cochran had sent out a plane on a photo reconnaissance flight over both proposed landing strips. General Wingate, Brigadier Calvert and myself were standing at the head of the glider train, when the pilot of the reconnaissance plane arrived in a jeep waving a large air photograph of Piccadilly and handed it to Colonel Cochran. The General, Brigadier and myself joined Colonel Cochran and Colonel Alison, his second-in-command, to study the photograph. Silence. The photograph showed that the clearing I knew so well was now covered with large branches of trees along the full length of the 1943 landing strip.
The plane had also flown over Broadway, but there were no obstructions to be seen on the proposed strip. However, movement had been seen along the western edge of the clearing and it was not known if this movement came from local inhabitants or the enemy. An intense silence descended on everyone in the vicinity, as the full realisation of what had happened dawned upon us. General Wingate took the photograph from me and walked across to where General Slim and the other Allied Commanders were standing. After several minutes’ conversation, General Wingate returned and handed it back to me. He then turned away with his head bent and his hands clasped behind his back, he looked a forlorn and lonely figure as he walked towards the setting sun. After going about thirty yards he turned and called Brigadier Calvert and after they talked, they walked to where the Allied Commanders were standing. A brief vital conference took place, after which General Wingate and Brigadier Calvert returned to me and I received fresh orders which were so clear and concise, that it was hard to realise that Piccadilly ever existed. We were to construct only the airstrip at Broadway.
Someone had made a bold decision. Who it was I do not know. Whether it was finally made by one man alone I cannot say, but I do know that General Wingate's motto had long been: “The boldest measures are the safest.”
After I had given orders to my Company Commanders, General Wingate took me to the front of my glider and told me something which was intended for my ears alone. He bade the men in my glider "Good Luck" and, finally turning again to me, he swept his hand towards the sixty or so gliders behind us and simply said, “The Oak Tree.” As we shook hands, I realised that the General had complete control of himself. All his planning and his hopes were now 'on the line' yet not the slightest tremor in his hand-shake or the flicker of an eyelid betrayed to those nearby what tensions were conflicting within him.
As my glider rose into the purple dusk now gathering above the mountains to the East, I was not thinking of what lay beyond them, but rather of General Wingate's unforgettable demonstration of cool, determined and inspired leadership. I believe that, if ever I saw greatness in a human being, I saw it in General Wingate that night. Much has been written of Orde Charles Wingate and, no doubt, much more remains to be written and much will never be written. My Column had travelled with Brigadier Wingate for most of the 1943 Campaign - until our attempted re-crossing of the Irrawaddy, after which we went our separate ways. I got to know him very well, well enough to know he had faults, but these were outweighed many many times by his other sterling qualities.
There are many events in my association with General Wingate I shall never forget, but I shall remember none better than his leadership on 5th March 1944. I believe it is easier to inspire men by leadership on the actual field of battle than to do so 100 miles behind your own lines. General Wingate had planned this operation over a period of many months and, in that last hour, it might have had to be postponed or even cancelled. Many a Commander, under these circumstances might have shown some sign of doubt or indecision. Many would have ordered the men away from the vicinity, so as not to reveal the intense personal feelings which must intrude at such times. One could not blame a leader who took such action, but one could only admire a leader who did not. In our history men have seldom failed such a leader, and I know none failed General Wingate that night.
Many opinions of General Wingate have been expressed by those in authority, and I believe the one that history will record is that of Winston Churchill in the House of Commons, 2nd August 1944, “There was a man of genius who might well have become also a man of destiny.”
The achievements of General Wingate that history will record are many. For my part, I shall remember his powers of leadership; the faith he instilled in those who had the privilege to serve under him; his faith in the ability of the R.A.F. and the U.S.A.A.F. to meet all our requirements with regard to supplies, direct air support, and especially the rescue of our sick and wounded.
However, to me, the most important of General Wingate's achievements was not only to give these who served under his command faith, confidence, and pride in themselves, but to raise the morale of the ordinary soldier facing the enemy on the Burma front, and also to raise the morale of all service men throughout the Indian continent and to give us all hope.
I believe that, on the night of 5th March 1944, the action and bearing of Orde Charles Wingate were those of a very great leader. History has not yet produced the perfect leader, and possibly it never will or never could. Had Orde Charles Wingate lived he may well have risen to other heights, and yet he may never have risen beyond the peak he attained that night. This I do know, that in rising to these heights he made upon me a lasting impression that will be with me always.
Wingate – A Lasting Impression
"Mighty Oaks from Little Acorns Grow."
I served under Major General Wingate from May 1942 until his death in March 1944. During this period, I was in General Wingate's presence when he had to make three vital decisions. Each one of these decisions could affect the lives of many men. It is not my intention to discuss whether or not these decisions were right, or wrong. I disagreed only with one, but agreed with the other two. I most certainly agreed with the final one. Because of his example and bearing on that occasion, General Wingate revealed himself to be a great leader, and left me with "a lasting impression."
The Acorn 1943:
During the 1943 Campaign, I commanded 8 Column. After Brigade H.Q. and 7 & 8 Columns had been ordered to disperse, following an opposed crossing of the Irrawaddy at Inywa, I took my Column east across the Shweli and then north to cross the Irrawaddy near Bhamo, using a Japanese supply junk we "borrowed" for a couple of hours. After crossing the river, our remaining mule which was carrying our last wireless set collapsed and died. Before smashing and burying the set, we sent a signal to base arranging for two supply drops on our intended route back to Assam. We had at this time, 17 or 18 wounded and sick men, who one knew would never survive the journey that lay ahead of us.
Late afternoon on the day before our first supply drop, we were some three miles from the R.V. given to the R.A.F. I was leading the Column through a teak forest when suddenly I found myself on the edge of a vast clearing. This clearing was over 1000 yards long and some 300 yards wide; the ground was level, hard and grass covered. The sudden realisation came to me that we had discovered a potential air-strip and at that time air-strips meant only one thing - air evacuation of the sick and wounded.
The plane arrived on time next morning and, before it had finished dropping our supplies, the pilot saw our request – made by using the first few parachutes dropped, we had written: PLANE LAND HERE NOW. The pilot attempted to land but failed due to some tall trees at one end of the dropping zone. However, two days later a gallant pilot and crew of 31 Squadron RAF, did land and within three hours all our wounded and sick comrades were in hospital at Imphal. Some weeks later I arrived in Imphal and, on meeting Brigadier Wingate, I told him I felt that a raiding party could be parachuted into our air-strip and use it as a base from which to raid the main railway during the coming monsoon. The Brigadier's reply was: “Scott your air-strip is now an acorn; I hope someday you will see the oak tree."
The Oak Tree (1944).
General Wingate kept his promise and not only did I see that acorn grow, I was fortunate enough to be part of the oak tree, which had grown from one Brigade, in 1943, to be a Special Force in 1944 of six Brigades with a bayonet strength greater than two Divisions. During the nine months that we had been growing in strength, General Wingate had journeyed to London, Quebec and Washington. He had returned with the best backing that the imagination and skills of our Allies could give him. Whilst in the U.S.A. he had been fortunate enough to have placed under his command No. 1 Air Commando U.S.A.A.F., commanded by Colonel Cochran. This force included fighters, bombers, gliders, transport planes and last, but by no means least, a light plane unit of almost 100 planes for the evacuation of our sick and wounded.
For all but a few of the sick and sounded the 1943 Campaign had been a one-way journey. These light planes were to change all that, as air evacuation had become a certainty. I know personally, that the care and fate of our sick and wounded was a great concern of General Wingate, as I had discussed it in detail with him on my return to Assam in 1943.
On 5th March 1944, I was commanding the advance guard, which was made up of 81 and 82 Columns of 1st King's Regiment. We were to be glider-borne troops along with Brigadier Calvert and his TAC HQ and an airfield construction section from Colonel Cochran’s force.
The plan was that my 81 Column was to be landed in the clearing used in 1943, now codenamed Piccadilly, to fly out my sick and wounded. 82 Column was to land by glider some thirty miles to the north in a similar clearing - codenamed Broadway. The role of these Columns was to clear the area of any enemy and to hold the ring, whilst the construction unit prepared the ground and wherever possible we were to assist in the preparation of these airstrips.
In the late afternoon, Colonel Cochran had sent out a plane on a photo reconnaissance flight over both proposed landing strips. General Wingate, Brigadier Calvert and myself were standing at the head of the glider train, when the pilot of the reconnaissance plane arrived in a jeep waving a large air photograph of Piccadilly and handed it to Colonel Cochran. The General, Brigadier and myself joined Colonel Cochran and Colonel Alison, his second-in-command, to study the photograph. Silence. The photograph showed that the clearing I knew so well was now covered with large branches of trees along the full length of the 1943 landing strip.
The plane had also flown over Broadway, but there were no obstructions to be seen on the proposed strip. However, movement had been seen along the western edge of the clearing and it was not known if this movement came from local inhabitants or the enemy. An intense silence descended on everyone in the vicinity, as the full realisation of what had happened dawned upon us. General Wingate took the photograph from me and walked across to where General Slim and the other Allied Commanders were standing. After several minutes’ conversation, General Wingate returned and handed it back to me. He then turned away with his head bent and his hands clasped behind his back, he looked a forlorn and lonely figure as he walked towards the setting sun. After going about thirty yards he turned and called Brigadier Calvert and after they talked, they walked to where the Allied Commanders were standing. A brief vital conference took place, after which General Wingate and Brigadier Calvert returned to me and I received fresh orders which were so clear and concise, that it was hard to realise that Piccadilly ever existed. We were to construct only the airstrip at Broadway.
Someone had made a bold decision. Who it was I do not know. Whether it was finally made by one man alone I cannot say, but I do know that General Wingate's motto had long been: “The boldest measures are the safest.”
After I had given orders to my Company Commanders, General Wingate took me to the front of my glider and told me something which was intended for my ears alone. He bade the men in my glider "Good Luck" and, finally turning again to me, he swept his hand towards the sixty or so gliders behind us and simply said, “The Oak Tree.” As we shook hands, I realised that the General had complete control of himself. All his planning and his hopes were now 'on the line' yet not the slightest tremor in his hand-shake or the flicker of an eyelid betrayed to those nearby what tensions were conflicting within him.
As my glider rose into the purple dusk now gathering above the mountains to the East, I was not thinking of what lay beyond them, but rather of General Wingate's unforgettable demonstration of cool, determined and inspired leadership. I believe that, if ever I saw greatness in a human being, I saw it in General Wingate that night. Much has been written of Orde Charles Wingate and, no doubt, much more remains to be written and much will never be written. My Column had travelled with Brigadier Wingate for most of the 1943 Campaign - until our attempted re-crossing of the Irrawaddy, after which we went our separate ways. I got to know him very well, well enough to know he had faults, but these were outweighed many many times by his other sterling qualities.
There are many events in my association with General Wingate I shall never forget, but I shall remember none better than his leadership on 5th March 1944. I believe it is easier to inspire men by leadership on the actual field of battle than to do so 100 miles behind your own lines. General Wingate had planned this operation over a period of many months and, in that last hour, it might have had to be postponed or even cancelled. Many a Commander, under these circumstances might have shown some sign of doubt or indecision. Many would have ordered the men away from the vicinity, so as not to reveal the intense personal feelings which must intrude at such times. One could not blame a leader who took such action, but one could only admire a leader who did not. In our history men have seldom failed such a leader, and I know none failed General Wingate that night.
Many opinions of General Wingate have been expressed by those in authority, and I believe the one that history will record is that of Winston Churchill in the House of Commons, 2nd August 1944, “There was a man of genius who might well have become also a man of destiny.”
The achievements of General Wingate that history will record are many. For my part, I shall remember his powers of leadership; the faith he instilled in those who had the privilege to serve under him; his faith in the ability of the R.A.F. and the U.S.A.A.F. to meet all our requirements with regard to supplies, direct air support, and especially the rescue of our sick and wounded.
However, to me, the most important of General Wingate's achievements was not only to give these who served under his command faith, confidence, and pride in themselves, but to raise the morale of the ordinary soldier facing the enemy on the Burma front, and also to raise the morale of all service men throughout the Indian continent and to give us all hope.
I believe that, on the night of 5th March 1944, the action and bearing of Orde Charles Wingate were those of a very great leader. History has not yet produced the perfect leader, and possibly it never will or never could. Had Orde Charles Wingate lived he may well have risen to other heights, and yet he may never have risen beyond the peak he attained that night. This I do know, that in rising to these heights he made upon me a lasting impression that will be with me always.
L/Cpl. William Snape.
L/Cpl. William Snape: 13th King’s in 1943, Vickers Machine Gunner.
I was a member of the 13th King's Regiment which took part in the first Wingate Campaign. We moved from Secunderabad, to the Central Provinces of India to start our training which began in terrible monsoon weather. Here we came face to face with General Wingate who explained all details of the campaign to us. We had a good idea of the hazards ahead and knew that he would face them with us. He inspired us and all had great confidence in his ideas and ideals. In this first campaign we were not meant to beat the Japanese and recapture Burma, but to harass their lines of communication. In spite of the monsoon rains, morale was always very high. All we wanted was to get into Burma and make a success of the campaign.
At the end of training, we faced a 200-mile exercise finishing at Jhansi, with day and night marching which would have broken many men's spirits under such conditions. But, as always, we had great faith in Orde Wingate's leadership. Here, we spent Christmas and had a short rest before leaving for Burma. At the end of his final speech, he gave every one the opportunity to withdraw from the campaign. Only one man took up the offer, which proves the outstanding confidence and trust we had in him. We knew that this was an adventure never attempted before, and we always were given to understand that the "hierarchy” did not approve of this venture. These things did not deter the men from following Orde Wingate. When halfway across Burma, the various columns met and Wingate spoke to us. The authorities, who said that half the men would be dead of disease, had already been proved wrong for we only had one man sick with dysentery out of the three columns.
There is no doubt that he was a fine leader and inspired his men with great confidence. My own view is that he was a man who suffered as much as his men did. He never gave up or wavered from his objective, and always the thought of his men was uppermost. If he had lived, what great heights would he have attained? It is a thousand pities this great man did not live to see victory. His sudden death was a terrible blow. It seems tragic that this brave warrior did not live to prove to the world what he was capable of.
Looking back after all these years, to my wartime Burma experiences in the jungle, I feel most strongly that General Orde Wingate should be remembered as one of the great heroes of the war for his unflinching tenacity, for his bravery and for his tremendous driving force which won for us the war in Burma.
I was a member of the 13th King's Regiment which took part in the first Wingate Campaign. We moved from Secunderabad, to the Central Provinces of India to start our training which began in terrible monsoon weather. Here we came face to face with General Wingate who explained all details of the campaign to us. We had a good idea of the hazards ahead and knew that he would face them with us. He inspired us and all had great confidence in his ideas and ideals. In this first campaign we were not meant to beat the Japanese and recapture Burma, but to harass their lines of communication. In spite of the monsoon rains, morale was always very high. All we wanted was to get into Burma and make a success of the campaign.
At the end of training, we faced a 200-mile exercise finishing at Jhansi, with day and night marching which would have broken many men's spirits under such conditions. But, as always, we had great faith in Orde Wingate's leadership. Here, we spent Christmas and had a short rest before leaving for Burma. At the end of his final speech, he gave every one the opportunity to withdraw from the campaign. Only one man took up the offer, which proves the outstanding confidence and trust we had in him. We knew that this was an adventure never attempted before, and we always were given to understand that the "hierarchy” did not approve of this venture. These things did not deter the men from following Orde Wingate. When halfway across Burma, the various columns met and Wingate spoke to us. The authorities, who said that half the men would be dead of disease, had already been proved wrong for we only had one man sick with dysentery out of the three columns.
There is no doubt that he was a fine leader and inspired his men with great confidence. My own view is that he was a man who suffered as much as his men did. He never gave up or wavered from his objective, and always the thought of his men was uppermost. If he had lived, what great heights would he have attained? It is a thousand pities this great man did not live to see victory. His sudden death was a terrible blow. It seems tragic that this brave warrior did not live to prove to the world what he was capable of.
Looking back after all these years, to my wartime Burma experiences in the jungle, I feel most strongly that General Orde Wingate should be remembered as one of the great heroes of the war for his unflinching tenacity, for his bravery and for his tremendous driving force which won for us the war in Burma.
Wing Commander Robert Thompson.
Wing Commander, Sir Robert Thompson, D.S.O., M.C.: 1943 Campaign, 3/2 Gurkha. Rifles, 77 Brigade. 1944 Campaign, Force H.Q. Air Liaison Officer and Air Advisor.
Two years ago, when I had to write a short assessment of Orde Wingate, I said that of all the British Generals in the twentieth century his reputation would steadily increase and probably last longest. Now, we can begin to see why this may be so. Human nature being what it is, it is not surprising that Wingate's contribution to victory (and to military thought and strategy) was written down by his own contemporaries. But, in the end, the truth will out and the legend will grow. “A man of genius who might well have become also a man of destiny.” (Churchill's epitaph), cannot be obscured for ever.
There were in my view, three areas in which his genius excelled; these can best be summarised as his concept of mobility, his determined self-reliance, and his quality of leadership. Wingate clearly understood that mobility is relative to that of the enemy in the element in which the war is being fought, and that it must be employed to enable forces to threaten and attack the enemy's vitals at the critical point in time and space. He was the first to appreciate that wireless and air support, particularly air supply, could give ground forces freedom of movement in a jungle terrain where otherwise the lack of communications would restrict their movement to the very limited roads, rivers, or railway. He did not make the mistake, which the United States made in Vietnam, of confusing air mobility with ground mobility by continually moving troops around by air once they were committed. He realised that only by mobility on the ground could troops dominate the jungle element through which the Japanese Army had to operate, thereby denying freedom of movement to the enemy.
To me the fascinating and critical decision which he had to take late in February 1944, was whether or not to commit the Chindit Long Range Penetration Groups behind the Japanese lines in Burma, without the enemy's main forces being offensively engaged by 14th Army on the Chindwin front, as had been directed when the original plans were made. He refused, because the Japanese would have been able to deploy their main forces, solely against the Chindits, at a time when their own supplies and communications would not have been a critical factor. When however, he learnt that the Japanese intended to attack 4th Corps across the Chindwin River and onto the Imphal Plain, he appreciated that this would be even better for him than the other way round because, with the Japanese advancing forward, it would both increase the space behind them in which the Chindits could manoeuvre, and would make their supply lines more vulnerable, and critical, if they were to keep their advancing forces supplied.
I think that, if he had lived to direct these operations and to maintain their threat to the rear of the Japanese XV Army (instead of the Chindits being diverted to assist Stilwell’s inconsequential advance in the north), the disaster of the Japanese Imphal offensive would have been magnified, and the reconquest of Burma made all that easier. As it was, the subsequent campaign down Burma, with 14th Army relying almost entirely on air supply, was a final testimony to his concept of mobility. Not a single planner before 1944, had ever envisaged the reconquest of Burma other than by a sea landing from the South.
I have used the phrase "determined self-reliance" to describe his capacity to make do with what he had, and to get the best out of all available local resources. On the first Chindit Campaign, he turned an elderly British garrison Battalion and the least-experienced Gurkha Battalion into heroes. It is, perhaps, just comprehensible that he was able to take thousands of camels up into the Gojjam against the Italians in Abyssinia, but no one else would have dreamed of using oxen as pack animals in Japanese-occupied North Burma. But above all, he knew how to harness and inspire the local people to his cause, thereby greatly increasing the effectiveness of his meagre forces both in Abyssinia and Burma.
He had more than the accepted qualities of leadership. I do not know of a single man, who served under him who would not have gone anywhere with him. Certainly, when crossing the Chindwin on the first Chindit Campaign and when waiting to embark in the gliders at Lalaghat, on the first night of the second Campaign, I felt scared enough, but never for one moment did I have any doubts about the success of either operation, nor did anyone else present. Wingate appealed to the spiritual not to the material. We knew that for him, as for Joshua, the walls of Jericho would fall down. Finally, I like to think that, as part of the modern art of leadership, he would have been master of the media. He had all the attraction of the mystic and the unconventional. While smaller minds tend to be articulate, confusing and trivial, he would have come through with the simplicity, clarity and authority of an Old Testament prophet. He had that great quality which has been so dismally lacking in the West, he could instil faith.
Two years ago, when I had to write a short assessment of Orde Wingate, I said that of all the British Generals in the twentieth century his reputation would steadily increase and probably last longest. Now, we can begin to see why this may be so. Human nature being what it is, it is not surprising that Wingate's contribution to victory (and to military thought and strategy) was written down by his own contemporaries. But, in the end, the truth will out and the legend will grow. “A man of genius who might well have become also a man of destiny.” (Churchill's epitaph), cannot be obscured for ever.
There were in my view, three areas in which his genius excelled; these can best be summarised as his concept of mobility, his determined self-reliance, and his quality of leadership. Wingate clearly understood that mobility is relative to that of the enemy in the element in which the war is being fought, and that it must be employed to enable forces to threaten and attack the enemy's vitals at the critical point in time and space. He was the first to appreciate that wireless and air support, particularly air supply, could give ground forces freedom of movement in a jungle terrain where otherwise the lack of communications would restrict their movement to the very limited roads, rivers, or railway. He did not make the mistake, which the United States made in Vietnam, of confusing air mobility with ground mobility by continually moving troops around by air once they were committed. He realised that only by mobility on the ground could troops dominate the jungle element through which the Japanese Army had to operate, thereby denying freedom of movement to the enemy.
To me the fascinating and critical decision which he had to take late in February 1944, was whether or not to commit the Chindit Long Range Penetration Groups behind the Japanese lines in Burma, without the enemy's main forces being offensively engaged by 14th Army on the Chindwin front, as had been directed when the original plans were made. He refused, because the Japanese would have been able to deploy their main forces, solely against the Chindits, at a time when their own supplies and communications would not have been a critical factor. When however, he learnt that the Japanese intended to attack 4th Corps across the Chindwin River and onto the Imphal Plain, he appreciated that this would be even better for him than the other way round because, with the Japanese advancing forward, it would both increase the space behind them in which the Chindits could manoeuvre, and would make their supply lines more vulnerable, and critical, if they were to keep their advancing forces supplied.
I think that, if he had lived to direct these operations and to maintain their threat to the rear of the Japanese XV Army (instead of the Chindits being diverted to assist Stilwell’s inconsequential advance in the north), the disaster of the Japanese Imphal offensive would have been magnified, and the reconquest of Burma made all that easier. As it was, the subsequent campaign down Burma, with 14th Army relying almost entirely on air supply, was a final testimony to his concept of mobility. Not a single planner before 1944, had ever envisaged the reconquest of Burma other than by a sea landing from the South.
I have used the phrase "determined self-reliance" to describe his capacity to make do with what he had, and to get the best out of all available local resources. On the first Chindit Campaign, he turned an elderly British garrison Battalion and the least-experienced Gurkha Battalion into heroes. It is, perhaps, just comprehensible that he was able to take thousands of camels up into the Gojjam against the Italians in Abyssinia, but no one else would have dreamed of using oxen as pack animals in Japanese-occupied North Burma. But above all, he knew how to harness and inspire the local people to his cause, thereby greatly increasing the effectiveness of his meagre forces both in Abyssinia and Burma.
He had more than the accepted qualities of leadership. I do not know of a single man, who served under him who would not have gone anywhere with him. Certainly, when crossing the Chindwin on the first Chindit Campaign and when waiting to embark in the gliders at Lalaghat, on the first night of the second Campaign, I felt scared enough, but never for one moment did I have any doubts about the success of either operation, nor did anyone else present. Wingate appealed to the spiritual not to the material. We knew that for him, as for Joshua, the walls of Jericho would fall down. Finally, I like to think that, as part of the modern art of leadership, he would have been master of the media. He had all the attraction of the mystic and the unconventional. While smaller minds tend to be articulate, confusing and trivial, he would have come through with the simplicity, clarity and authority of an Old Testament prophet. He had that great quality which has been so dismally lacking in the West, he could instil faith.
Copyright © Steve Fogden and The Chindit Society, August 2024.