VOL.  II      NO.  30      REG NO.  L5015      DELHI,  THURSDAY           APRIL 6, 1944

 Wingate Killed In Air Crash

  Maj. Gen. Orde Charles Wingate's world famous "Chindits" fought on to preserve the Wingate tradition in Burma this week as arrangements were made for the final disposal of the remains of their leader.
  The 39-year-old commander and founder of the airborne commandos, now cutting enemy supply columns in Northern Burma, was killed March 24 when the B-25 in which he was flying apparently crashed into a mountain peak.
  A year ago, Wingate led his commandos into Burma on foot and for months harassed the enemy rear without the support of a friendly invasion. This year his troops were airborne into Burma by Col. Philip Cochran's American aerial circus.
  The general, who had a long career with the India Command and the Middle East before going under SEAC, was born in Naini Tai, the son of an India Command officer. He leaves a widow in London.
  War correspondents Stewart Emery of the London News-Chronicle and Stanley Wills of the London Daily Herald were also presumed to have lost their lives in the crash.
  The death of Maj. Gen. Order Charles Wingate is a tragedy to American as well as British arms. By his daring, his desire to come to grips with the enemy and his unorthodox methods he had captured the imagination of most of the people in the English-speaking world.
  It would be premature to say that Wingate has already gained for himself a permanent niche in military history. The father and chief pleader for the idea of the Long Range Penetration Group, his first sorties behind enemy lines last year brought conflicting estimates of military value.


  His operations this year, however, will undoubtedly prove conclusively whether or not his LRPG's present one of the answers to the rough problem of defeating the Jap in the jungle.
  The main argument against his force, a year ago, was that the LRPG, unless co-ordinated with an invasion force, does little pratical good. This year that situation is different. Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell's forces have cleared the Hukawng Valley and are moving down the Mogaung Valley not too far from Kamaing. British forces inch their

  Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell told correspondents at his Burma headquarters:
  "Maj. Gen. Wingate's death is a distinct loss to us all out here. he was a real fighter whose combative spirit was inspiring. He meant business. Wingate was very co-operative and was always prepared to change his plans to meet those of others. He was always ready to break with tradition when necessary, as shown by his intense interest in long range penetration. Wingate was a good friend of mine."
way forward against bitter opposition on the Arakan and othe British troops are now containing a strong enemy force in the Imphal area.
  The presence of Wingate's troops in Burma inevitably trebles Jap difficulties in supplying and reinforcing the enemy opposed to the men of Stilwell and the enemy attacking through the mountains toward Imphal. It is probable that these Wingate troops will play a major role in current operations and may even play a decisive one.
  It the latter should be the case, Wingate's historical position will be secure regardless of who succeeds him in the command. His successor faces the unenviable personal prospect of being subordinated to the "Wingate Tradition."
  In any event, the "Wingate Tradition" will live for decades to come. He became the great British military hero in a static theater by the sheer force of his insistance that something be done against the enemy. The mere fact that he could sell an idea as militarily radical as his to Delhi, Quebec and Washington is proof enough of the force of his personal conviction and the dominance of his personality.
  Here was a man who, despite residence in a theater of operations releagted to a back seat in the interest of global strategy, went forth with what he had, and at times with what the Japs thought he had, to spread as much consternation and implement as much destruction as possible far behind enemy lines, while cut off from all support except from the then unexplored medium of air supply.
  It took a courageous man to do that. It took a man with imagination and great personal courage. It was this courage that caused his death because he refused to sit calmly in some safe ivory tower while his men "sweated it out" in the jungle. He was there with them in person as well as in spirit. Men will go to Hell in a hand basket for that type of military leader and do the impossible over and over again.
  Wingate's mortal remains will slowly turn to dust. His grave will become just another mound surmounted by a cross, but the "Wingate Tradition," the Wingate idea, the memory of the Wingate daring and verve will influence men and armies for years to come.

Chinese Batter Past Shadazup In Burma Drive

  NORTHERN BURMA - The road southward down the Mogaung Valley continued to be a bitter, bloody one, each grudging mile surrendered by the Japanese to Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell's Chinese-American forces coming only after opposition bordering on suicidal.
  But Stilwell's troops successfully battered their way farther down the rain-swept valley this week. They captured Shadazup, 10 miles south of Jambu Bum Pass. They clamped a road block just north of the village of Laban, four miles south of Shadazup, that hemmed in two battalions of the Japanese 18th Division and killed 500 of an estimated 1,000 enemy thus pocketed. And, at last reports, they had advanced approximately one mile south of Laban.

  Fall of Shadazup was preceeded three days by the establishment of the road block four miles south. Americans under Brig. Gen. Frank Merrill and a group of Chinese veterans spent weeks driving from the north and east across 4,000-foot peaks to cut off the Japs by straddling the only motorable road in the valley at Laban. They cut their own trails, combatted jungle terrain, pre-monsoon rains and the always accompanying mud, and once went without food for two days.
      Jinx Falkenburg
      For Obvious Reasons

  When the road block was established, the fun had only just started. Yanks and Chinese, fighting side by side for the first time as a single, integrated force, beat off several desperate enemy efforts to dislodge them. For three successive days, starting March 30, furious counter-attacks were launched by the Japanese. The 18th Jap Division lost up to 400 dead in these actions, compared to a relative handful of casualties suffered by the Chinese-American forces.
  In the four-mile square area between Shadazup and the road block, the Chinese 38th and 22nd Divisions captured booty which included sizeable quantities of artillery shells and small arms ammunition. Many Chinese advancing down the Mogaung Valley are now wearing Japanese shoes as the result of capturing truckloads of new footwear. Americans feasted on truckloads of Jap potatoes.
  Some Japanese are striving to escape by chopping their own trails through virgin jungle, just as did the Allies to establish the road block.
  Chinese forces of the 22nd Division in the push leading to the capture of Shadazup crossed the Hkawngiaw River at seven points to seize an enemy stronghold about two miles square and embracing a network of interlocking trenches and jungle pillboxes. During the push, effective Chinese mortar fire held positions firm through the night, broke five enemy attacks, and forced the Japs to withdraw before dawn after hurriedly burying some of their dead in foxholes and leaving an estimated 100 bodies amidst the excavation of mortar shells.
  Just north of Shadazup, the Japs blocking the road fought so fiercely against Chinese tanks and infantry that the offensive was delayed more than 24 hours. The Chinese finally charged with bayonets, leaping into foxholes to kill the enemy. The area looked as if it had been hit by a cyclone. Col. Rothwell H. Brown, commander of the Tank Corps, declared, "They dug like moles and stayed in their holes 24 hours a day unless ordered to retreat into similar positions. Their backs must be always sore from digging so much."
  Many of the bodies were those of transport corpsmen, clerks and radiomen, indicating that every available man had been thrown into the last ditch stand.
  The Chinese mortar unit which fired with such effectiveness against the Jap in front of Shadazup is under the command of Capt. William Sanford, T/Sgt. John F. Osterkorn and S/Sgt. George F. Davies. These American weapons have been in action for several weeks and have become a potent factor.
  Enemy dead during the past three weeks have mounted to more than 5,500.
  In the first air action against Stilwell's troops in the Hukawng Valley, a Jap bomber and fighter strafed an American airport. These were believed to be planes which escaped the wrath of American P-51's and P-40's which broke up an attack upon the Assam area. Minute damage and no casualties were reported, while ack-ack apparently hit the Jap bomber's right motor which was observed to be smoking furiously as the plane continued southward.
  Brig. Gen. Lewis Pick, directing construction of the Ledo Road, leeped from his jeep into the jungle in the nick of time. Bullets chewed up dirt six feet from Capt. William Schmeizer, who declared: "The Rising Sun on the bomber's wing seemed as big as a barn."
  In the Sumprabum-Myitkyina area, British-commanded Kachin Levies and Ghurkas pushed south to Thear on the road to Myitkyina after American aircraft bombed and strafed an enemy force dislodged from the south bank of the Daru River. Levies operating south of Sumprabum have made a series of successful ambushes.



A girl must look her best. Beauty aids mailed from home are supplemented by what those nice pilots fly across The Hump.
  China is a fascinating place. War isn't all blood and thunder and there is an occasional pause granted to appreciate the beauties laid before us. From the hill tops, great beauty is spread in a carpet of intricate design. Terraced rice paddies, winding rivers, groves of trees - all blend to make the pattern. Above, the sky is startling, brilliant blue, cloudless and unbelievably serene.
  Then there are the people of China.
Lt. Ruth M. (Chris) Smith, A.N.C., awakens to start another day in the life of an Air Evacuation Nurse somewhere in China.
They are a happy lot, very polite and kind. At our base here, they are always industriously busy, some in long double lines dragging a heavy roller to smooth out the runway and roads, others carrying heavy burdens on bamboo poles with baskets attached to both ends.
  The Chinese are very different from what I thought they would be like before I arrived here. I had often read of the ancient civilization of China and I had expected to find the people tired and worn, incomprehensible to Westerners. Instead, I saw people with bright, vital eyes, full of energy and ambition. I was astonished to discover that they had left me with impressions of youth, not age. New China is young and modern.
  Sometimes the serene blue sky above becomes threatening. The windsock comes down and the cry, "Jing-bow, one ball alert," leaps from mouth to mouth. Then we prepare the patients for evacuation. When the alert becomes a two-ball one, we wait for the word to carry the patients to slit trenches. It comes and we transport them to places of relative safety. Sometimes the air raid comes; most often the alert was caused by the enemy approaching near to our base en route to another target. We have spent some nights in caves when we could hear the droning of the motors of enemy aircraft overhead, probing to locate our field in the darkness. The clanging of a hammer against a pan is one of our "all clear" signals. It's a wonderful sound to hear.

After breakfast, Nurse Smith bundles herself into a flying suit and prepares to take off on a mission.

Nurse Smth "scrubs up" in preparation for assisting surgeon Maj. Joseph R. Boyes, who saved his leg.
Her medical kit around her neck, she boards a plane that will take her to the wounded patient.
She makes her charge comfortable on the return trip. He is Sgt. John S. Truhler, Mitchell bomber crewman.

The dressing on the sergeant's leg is wetted down with a saline solution during the post-operation treatment.

All work and no play makes Jill a dull nurse. So at night she goes to a nearby city on a dinner date with Capt. Norbert Tracy. Dinner is followed by a shopping tour, on which she bargained vigorously.
Back at quarters, she bids her escort good night. Then, after chatting with her fellow nurses hits the sack.

  We have little in the way of entertainment, so we must make our own. Two or three times a week we see a movie which we have generally seen before, but even that's better than nothing. Depending on the supply of gasoline available for recreational purposes, we occasionally get a chance to visit a nearby Chinese city. A Chinese dinner in town is most pleasant.
  At or toilet on the base - we call our abode "Hag's Haven" - we are able to entertain a little. Quarters are small, but we usually discover a way to make room for everyone. We generally get tea or hot water to make cocoa for a 10 p.m. snack of toast and jam. Once in a while, some Chinese or Englishman who lives in town invites us to his home for a party.
  Movies in town are interesting, too. In theatres where English and American films are shown, there is a small screen beside the main screen on which is projected a translation of the spoken words in Chinese characters.
  Shopping is made exciting in China. Some stores have bands playing at their entrance, others have men beating drums.
  Fixed prices for goods in China don't seem to exist, so a considerable amount of haggling is necessary before buyer and seller can agree on how much will be paid for an article. But the little "price war" is waged with infinite courtesy and actually adds certain zest and charm to what would otherwise be a dull, businesslike transaction.
  many of the street scenes remind an American of home. newsboys cry their papers through the crowds and traffic rushes through the streets. The chief difference is that the vehicular traffic is virtually entirely composed of rickshaws, and the cries of the rickshaw boys take the place of the honking of horns. In China, the pedestrian is lord of both the sidewalks and the streets and there are usually more people walking in the streets than on the pavement.
  Our latest experience with the enemy occurred on a recent night shortly after the first birthday anniversary of the 14th Air Force. At about 2 a.m. we were awakened by Wong, a Chinese hostel attendant of the War Area Service Corps, who banged on the door of the nurses' quarters and cried, "Jingbow li" (there's an air-raid coming). We quickly jumped out of bed and removed our patients to safety. Soon a flight of two Jap planes attacked the field. The night was brilliantly moon-lit and we could see the raiders clearly. Presently one swooped low on the field and dropped an incendiary bomb. It was the first time I ever saw a bomb explode at night. There was a great splash of fire which showered the area with flaming incendiary particles. Then one of the planes made a light strafing run to one side of the runway and, shortly afterwards, two parachute flares were dropped. These lit up the field almost like daylight and then we all crouched in our slit trenches, expecting the appearance of a larger formation of bombers, which fortunately did not arrive.

One-Man Chinese Gang Mops Up Eight Enemy

  SHADAZUP - Pfc. Chang Chang-Yao emphasized dramatically and conclusively that he doesn't like to be irritated. Eight Japs were impressed with that fact this week, but it ain't going to do 'em a damn bit of good... because they're dead.
  Col. Chan Ying-Hwa, Chiang's commanding officer, related the story in recommending him for the American Silver Star and citing him to Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek.
  Chang, veteran of the Chinese Fifth Army during the 1942 Burma Campaign, was charging uphill with his squad leader, who was stopped by a bullet.
  Standing in the open, Chang sprayed the Japs ahead with a hot curtain of machine gun fire until his comrade was able to crawl back into the comparative sanctity of a foxhole. Instead of shooting at him, the enemy in a dugout at the base of a big tree fired at his wounded leader. Chang was browned off to a fare-thee-well.
  Stuffing his pockets full of grenades, Chang wormed his way to the side of the tree opposite the Japs' dugout and tossed five around the trunk at them. Each time they threw the grenades back before they exploded.
  Chang was hopping mad by this time. He pulled the pin from his sixth grenade, held it until the last split second and then hurled it into the dugout. That disposed of two Jap lieutenants and one enlisted man. Back to his leader's side came Chang, slightly wounded in the jaw by a bullet fired from another dugout containing five Japs.
  Chang used only two grenades to finish them. His disposition improved perceptibly.


  BRITISH BURMA FRONT - SEAC communiques this week reveal the following features of conflict between Jap and Allied forces in Burma and India:
  Glider-borne Wingate commandos have severed Jap communications lines to bases in North Burma. The Wingate troops have also successfully defended the sirstrip constructed behind the enemy lines.

  Jap forces have intensified their offensive along the Chindwin front. The enemy has penetrated to the Imphal-Kohima Road, north of the Manipur capital of Imphal. Heavy fighting is going on in the hilly country east of Kohima.

  Enemy forces attempted to cut the Imphal-Tiddim Road south of Imphal, but were driven away by the Allied troops.
  Jap losses were estimated at 3,000 dead and 9,000 wounded since the invasion began.
  The activity of the Wingate troops in the rear of the Jap now invading India makes more perilous the position of the Nips along the Chindwin, according to the British. The invaders are in imminent danger of having their supply lines cut.
  In the Arakan, British forces hold one tunnel of the Maungdaw-Buthidaung road and are cleaning out enemy troops in the neighborhood of the second tunnel.

  Sir Claude Auchinleck, Commander-In-Chief of the Indian Army, addressed the Indian Assembly and told it that the security of Assam was not and never had been in danger. He said the Jap offensive along the Chindwin had been made easier by the fact that British supply lines there are parallel with the battle front.
  Auchinleck also denied a statement in the New York Times that the capture of Imphal would be unimportant. He said it would be important, but that the British have no intention of allowing it to happen.
  An RAF Public Relations officer paid tribute to the American pilots of the Air Commando Force of Col. Philip Cochran. The Americans have been evacuating the wounded from the front under heavy enemy fire.


  14TH A. F. HQ. - For the second successive week, Japanese rail installations in China took a beating at the hands of the 14th Air Force. Fighter-bombers attacked the railway station at Nanchang, on the Yangtze River, wreaking considerable damage to the station and the railroad yards. The formation was intercepted by 15 enemy fighters, one of which was destroyed, while all our planes returned safely.
  Earlier in the week, fighter-bombers attacked a bridge and warehouse at Anyi, in the Yangtze River area. The warehouse was leveled and near misses were scored on the bridge. At the same time, Lightnings badly damaged the north rail bridge at Kienchang. Other fighter-bombers attacked the Nanchang airdrome, scoring 15 direct hits on the runways. Direct hits also smashed the control tower. Still other fighters bombed the Puchi railroad bridge. From this mission, all planes returned safely.

Had the answer

  APO 430 - It was a gloomy, overcast day in Burma. The airfield was practically deserted. No plane had landed in some hours... and the long-awaited hospital ship had not shown up during the entire day.
  What was to be done? Forty-eight Chinese wounded had been brought in by ambulance that day from the front lines to be flown to hospitals in India. Some were seriously injured. On had already died. Only one American doctor and his small staff of litter bearers were on hand to take care of them. Their hands were tied without the Air Corps' help.
  Finally, a lone tranport was sighted. At long last, the hospital ship had arrived. Two trim nurses stepped out, the gangplank was set up and 10 minutes later, an over-capacity load of suffering Chinese, including Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell's effervescent orderly, "Buttercup," had been placed aboard and the plane was off.

  But there were more to go. Up walked Capt. Emmett J. Theisen, of Detroit. "We'll see that they're all out of here in an hour, doc," he assured the anxious medic. It seemed like wishful thinking on the captain's part.
  Then a cargo ship landed. Its load of rations were removed to trucks. Theisen approached the pilot with the predicament, asking him to take what he could of the wounded. The young pilot glanced at the sky apprehensively, remembered that he was not supposed to land at the field near the designated hospital. But impressed by the urgency of the situation, he consented and another group was winging toward proper medical care.
  Eighteen remained and it was getting late. Drops of rain started to fall. It soon became apparent that no more planes would come that day.
  "Okay," declared Theisen, "I'll take them."

  He led the ambulance to his plane at one corner of the field. The ship was Stilwell's private plane - "Uncle Joe's Chariot."
  "The old man won't want to use it anymore today," he commented, "load them on."
  Now the "Chariot," as it is affectionately called, is no ordinary plane. It has a beautiful carpet, comfortable chairs on one side, a couch for the general on the other. The first chair is Stilwell's, replete with an oxygen unit, reading lamp and ash tray.
  The general's pilot shuddered momentarily as the wounded were brought in, still dirty and bloody from the trenches they had left only that morning. One of the walking wounded brushed against the white-painted ceiling; another virtually wiped his muddy shoes on the rug. Theisen shrugged his shoulders, "The general would want it that way. These men need immediate attention."
  Thiesen, like his plane, is something special. Though attached to the Air Transport Command, he is assigned to Uncle Joe as personal pilot while the general is flying, which is pretty much of the time. At 25, he is one of the most highly-regarded men in the air, a fact to which his fellow pilots agree. he has been in CBI-land almost two years.
  Theisen is firmly convinced of the Air Corps' particular responsibility, especially that of the pilots to do the job under any conditions. "I even felt sorry for a wounded Jap I carried the other day."


  The Eastern Air Command's Tactical Air Force nosed about Northern Burma like a pack of hounds this week, sniffing out Japanese troop concentrations stores and lines of communication wherever they could be found. They were given constant and timely help by Col. Philip Cochran's American Air Commando Force, which continued to gun for whatever slipped past the blocks already established by ground forces to starve the Japs from their numerous, scattered jungle positions.
  Both the Tactical and Strategic Air Forces worked over supply lines in Southern Burma, further strangling the flow of food and munitions to enemy fronts throughout Northern Burma. Almost 100 rivercraft were destroyed and many more damaged; locomotives and rolling stock were blasted from the rails and trapped in their revetments, and motor transport was constantly harried and burned.

  The Japanese Air Force continued to lead an unhappy existence. In addition to the 30 or more caught
and destroyed on March 27, American fighters, on April 2, knocked out four in dogfights, destroyed eight and probably destroyed two more on the ground. The Commando Force also got some. Thus April got off to a good start in an effort to equal March, when a record 133 Japanese aircraft were destroyed in Burma.
  The first two days of the month saw the Tactical Air Force in its most effective sweep into Southern Burma in a week, wipe out more than 70 rivercraft and damge many more, and knock off seven locomotives. On the night of April 1-2, the Strategic Air Force's heavies went to Rangoon and hit the Kemmendine Railway station, starting large fires. Two nights earlier, the big boys had attacked the supply area at Victoria lake, just north of Rangoon, again causing heavy damage. Medium bombers, in the same period, hit Shwebo, Monywa and Pinlebu.

  Cochran's outfit, supporting the airborne forces, landed behind the Jap lines, twice hit Indaw, causing heavy explosions and fires, and attacked the field at Anisikan, where they caught a few planes on the ground. They also battered a Japanese headquarters at Mohnyin, and aided in driving off Japanese troops who had invaded one of the landing strips in Burma.
  During the last three days of march, activity in the Chin Hills, Chindwin Valley and throughout Northern Burma fronts was extremely heavy. U.S. heavies mauled installations at Mogaung and Kamaing, and damaged enemy gun positions and strong points. RAF fighters and fighter-bombers and dive bombers of the Tactical Air Force continued to harass the Japanese in the Arakan area.
  On April 3, medium bombers of the Strategic Air Force damaged Tangon Bridge, and that night attacked the railway station at Ye-U, scoring two direct hits on the rracks and starting a fire which was followed by a large explosion.

A picture is worth 10,000 words, so Lt. Col. D. M. O'Connell, Judge Advocate at a Chinese-American Training Center, submits documentary evidence of his meeting with a feline fighter, whom the "jedge" plugged with one shot squarely through the heart. Measuring 10 feet, eight inches long, the tiger is believed to be one of the largest killed by an American in this Theater.

  Things have come to a pretty pass when, right in the middle of the greatest war in history, a column like this turns up more or less at a loss for something to have itself written about. If the gag had not already been overworked, we could have started today's little effort with the old one to the effect that "we don't know what we're going to write about today, but anyway, here it is."
  The trouble is that, at the moment, certain phases of the war have pretty much wound themselves up, and the new phases have not yet started. A lot of things happened during the past week, but nothing much that disturbs the status quo.
  The air war goes on and so do the Russians - both pretty much as per specification. Our Pacific task forces have been gamboling about like spring lambs in a part of the Pacific in which the Japs think we have no business to be, and we have occupied another handful of the marshalls atolls - but since the original Marshall landings and the virtually unopposed attack on Truk, both of these developments were right there on Page 1 of the book. The War Department announced this week that 100,000 Japs face slow starvation or sudden death in encircled island outposts, but we - ahem - told you a month ago that the Japs were involved in a number of "Bataans" in that area, so we can't whip up too much excitement about that. In Italy, nothing much happens. is that news?
  There are some comments - both favorable and otherwise - which could be made about what's going on in Burma. But you may have noticed that, on the whole, this column seldom cracks wise about developments in our own front yard. It is not that we do not subscribe wholeheartedly to the credo of fearless journalism - it is just that we love these shiny lieutenant's bars like a mother, and there are guys within spitting distance of our office who could snatch them off at a moment's notice. There's always an outside chance that we might know something we're not supposed to know, and in addition to the personal consequences of letting something slip, we sincerely have no desire to give any aid or comfort to the enemy. To Hell with them. What did they ever do for us? They're not even Roundup subscribers.

It Ain't All Glory
Hump-Jumping Plane: Sea-Going PBY

  Parked before his typewriter in Shangri La, International News Service's normally astute foreign editor, J. C. Oestreicher, dreamed up a yarn entitled It Ain't All Glory. This concerned the dashing deeds of Bob Bryant, aggresive, screwball picture-grabber whose epic photos of the Hukawng Valley campaign recently decorated the pages of this fishwrapper.
  One paragraph made Bryant's eyes blink in amazement: "The propellor of a big PBY nearby turned over slowly, each new revolution kicking up a small swirl of dust that merged and coalesced until at last the whole Assam field, hacked out of the wilderness by bulldozers of the United States Army Air Corps, swam hazily under a blanket of dirt-filled mist."
  This PBY was advertised as just ready to jump off for a hop over The Hump.
  "Probably," cracked Bryant, "it was supposed to land on the dew covering the field in China."
  The article came to a crashing conclusion. "There isn't a news correspondent or a cameraman who hasn't run into much the same sort of thing - malaria, dysentery, heat, cold, rain, cockroaches, bedbugs, rats, overcharging, black markets, collapsible furniture and non-cooperation from officialdom. But what a job to get them to come home."
  Bryant's laconic observation: "Say, is he kidding?"


  ASSAM - The engines of 18 Japanese bombers and 20 escorting fighters droned continuously over the India-Burma border of Upper Assam last week as the enemy elected to probe into the Chabua area with a strong percentage of his dwindling, carefully-husbanded air strength in Northern Burma.
  Overcast prevented the bombers from plummeting their explosive eggs on the elcted target. Disgruntled, they jettisoned them ineffectively in the Brahmaputra Valley and turned for home.
  Few were destined ever to reach their base.

  For from out of the Assamese sky, lusting for a decisive scrap, American P-51's and P-40's pounced savagely upon the invading Japs. These were hungry members of Brig. Gen. John F. Egan's Northern Air Sector, Tactical Air Force, Eastern Air Command.
  Nothing could save the bombers. The battle swung from Ledo to 50 miles to the southeast. Bomber after flame-licked bomber was swallowed up by the jungle-mantled craggy country, accompanied by an equal number of enemy fighter planes. The battle raged until it reached the area occupied by Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell's Chinese-American forces in the Mogaung Valley, who watched its closing stages.
  When it was over, the sky had been swept clear of 13 bombers confirmed, one probable. Thirteen fighters carrying the emblem of the Sinking Sun had been destroyed, three more probably destroyed.
  The bitter dog-fighting cost the American interceptors three planes and two pilots, relatively small price to pay for the smashing victory.
  In other battles during a two-day period also covering this action, three more duels cut deeper into Jap air strength, with six Zeros shot down without cost.

  On the same day as the majot scrap, a flight of A-36's were intercepted near Kamaing by five enemy fighters. Three of the interceptors went down in flames. Not an A-36 was scratched.
  And of two Zeros which jumped a flight of B-25's with P-51 escort near Myitkyina, one was destroyed, the other damaged.
  On the following day, RAF Spitfires roared into action, intercepting two bombers and 15 Oscars near Tamu and without loss or damages to themselves, shot down two Oscars and chewed up two more.
  The 30 enemy aircraft destroyed during these two days swelled the total of bombers and fighters destroyed in combat and on the ground during March to 133 - largest bag in any one month since Burma was evacuated nearly two years ago. Forty-six of these were the victims of USAAF fighters of Col. Philip Cochran's Air Commando Force, the rest centered in the gun-sights of the busy Tactical Air Force, EAC.


  ASSAM - It was Award Day for the Burma Banshees of Col. Ivan McElroy recently when Brig. Gen. John F. Egan presented decorations to this fighter group that has been tangling with the Japs in Northern Burma and protecting the transport lanes to China.
  The Silver Star was presented to Lt. Phillip R. Adair for gallantry in action. He "singly and repeatedly attacked a formation of 24 enemy bombers and 35 enemy fighters with skill and determination."
  A total of 71 medals were awarded to the men "who accomplished with distinction more than 25 combat missions over enemy-held territory of Northern Burma. In the execution of these flights, they have with eagerness and vigor attacked enemy installations. In aerial combat they have succeeded in driving the enemy from the sky."


  From the Roundup's file of United Press copy, it learned today that the crew of "Old 59," B-25 Mitchell veteran of 121 missions and over 700 combat hours, arrived safely in Shangri La after 18 months in CBI-land to open a bond selling tour.

  Capt. Robert R. Ebey described a mission in which the venerable lady flew along the Burma Road at 50 feet and dropped three-inch tacks for five or six miles.
  "They did the trick," he chortled, "Next morning we saw plenty of Japs sweating over flat tires."
  The first thing the veterans asked for when they arrived in Miami was a case of catsup to send to their buddies in China. Ebey explained, "They sure would like that and it would be a great morale builder."
  The fliers said that cow's milk would be appreciated next to catsup in China. He said he had a glass of ice-cold milk before he left China, but that it was buffalo milk.
  Happiest of the crew was "Slami," daschund mascot. It was his first trip to the United States and he ran himself dizzy chasing butterflies.

It's An Exciting Life Up Front

  ALONG THE LEDO ROAD - It's an exciting life up front.
  We saw two American soldiers severing the Rising Sun emblem from the waist of a dead Jap officer - cut in two by the blazing fire of a machine gun. The top half was six feet from the lower. His skull was blackened. Bare outline of nails showed on skeleton fingers. His legs were twisted. Equipment-crowded remnants of clothing looked stuffed.
  One soldier held the rope with the end of his rifle. The other gripped his hunting knife firmly and began sawing. "I never thought in civilian life I could stand on a battlefield and play with stinking dead bodies," he declared, smiling.
  This was a battlefield - where Japanese met deadly fire from American and Chinese. Bodies littered the ground on both sides of the trail; soon after were buried in rich Burmese soil by bulldozers.
  Stench was terrific. Rotten. Indescribable. Flies!


  Japs left much ammunition - artillery, rifle, machine gun. They left their shoes.
  Encampments were burrows in the ground, filthy, dirty, stinking. Small holes in the ground, cut-outs in banks, lean-tos on the stretching roots of the banyan. Tunnels in dense vegetation.
  A new-born foal clung to its mother.
  Chinese camps. American camps. Engineers, medics, fighters.
  Combat headquarters. Just behind the front lines where Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell and his American-trained Chinese forces plotted their moves. Ahead, the fighting men who are freeing Burma - and the Jap.
  A new camp was in the making. Slashing kukris (Indian knives) cleared sections for jungle hammocks and a few tents. The men sang, whistled. This was only their fourteenth camp.
  Suppertime. K-ration - tin of cheese, dried biscuits, lemon crystals, four crumpled cigarettes, a stick of crummy gum. Drinking water was boiled in the canteen.
  Business through, we planned to return to base farther back. Sleeping accomodation was limited. War correspondents looked at the two of us, a .45 and two penknives between us, and calmly suggested, "You'd better not go back in the dark tonight."
  "Why?" we asked.


  "Only a company of 200 Japs behind us. The Old Man (Stilwell) has scouting parties out to see they don't get into mischief, though."
  We stayed, jungle hammocks too.
  Around a cheery fire, we crowded with correspondents and discussed war strategy on different fronts. Chuckled at news broadcasts. Painstakingly boiled coffee on a small gas burner, one cup at a time. Told stories of unknown heroes.
  bedtime. I crawled into my jungle hammock, cautiously. Zipped her tight. My head was at the foot. I proceeded to manuever a turn about.
  Plop! Into my net's side I fell, feeling lost and helpless.
  I struggled to regain my position. A ripping greeted me. Gradually, portions of my anatomy reached the ground. There would be a sewing chore for me in the morning. But I would conquer this hammock and sleep tonight.
  Next morning they asked me how I liked the Jap artillery fire which had been booming during the night.
  "What artillery?" I asked.
  We left after eating K-ration again. But it was with a feeling of disappointment. The boys reallt enjoy it up front. And so do we.

CORPORAL GEE-EYE       by Nolan
"COULD BE! - But dammit's probably a Jap booby trap"
Under Heading Of Good News

  Of interest to prospective two-year CBI "rotationalists" is the report from the U.S. Census Bureau this week that the nation's females outnumbered males by 644,196 as early as 1942.
  As of July 1, 1942, the total population of the United States, including Armed Forces abroad, was 136,485,262, representing an increase of 4,815,987 over the 1940 census.
  In 1940, males outnumbered females by 458,918.


  APO 689 - It was a case of an order being carried out not only promptly, but TOO promptly.
  During a recent fire in the company area, Lt. McClelland Wallace shouted to bring water quickly. No sooner had the order come from his mouth than a full pail of aqua pura launched over a tent by an obedient G.I. landed squarely between his lips.

Heavenly Road for G.I. Drivers

  ALONG THE LEDO ROAD - The Heavenly Road!
  On one section of the Ledo Road which hasn't been opened to general traffic yet, drivers are allowed to run their vehicles on the right side of the road just like they do back in Shangri La.
  No wonder they call it the "Road To Home."

Pvt. Levy

  ICW-ATC BASE - Pvt. Levy tends a gasoline station up here. Every day after he pumped his last gallon, he would report to the supply room, hoping to draw his carbine ammunition.
  he waited months and then the big day came. Levy fondled the ammunition and then couldn't resist the temptation to load his carbine, which hadn't been fired as yet.
'Stilwell Sat Here'

  CARMEL, CALIF. - (UP) -Mrs. Joseph W. Stilwell had been asking guest repeatedly not to sit in a particularly weak chair, so she finally roped the seat off with a bright red ribbon. She followed this friendly move by carefully placing a written card on the chair reading: "General Stilwell sat here."

  Instead of pointing the weapon into the air, he took careful aim at the ground just in front of the jungle, and fired. Just as the sound of the report died away, an Englishman in shorts and sun helmet came running out of the jungle, yelling and waving his arms.
  "You bloody bloke," yelled the enraged Briton, "Your bloody bullet bounced off the cheek of my--."
  The last few words were lost in the fog of a thick English accent. But "cheek" had hit Levy like a bombshell. Just as he was visualizing a court martial for marking up one of our allies, the Englishman made him understand that he had meant by "cheek" the face of his ack-ack gun.
  "How'd I know there was an ack-ack gun in there," griped Levy in hist best Brooklynese, as he stalked away.
  Pvt. Levy is currently wondering how to disassemble his weapon to clean it.

Red Alert;  His Face Was, Too

  ASSAM - Was his face red!
  A certain young lieutenant, fresh from a peaceful western India port, was plying his trade one morning not long ago. The small pukka office crackled with activity as his staff of enlisted men snipped and clipped at jungle juvenilia.
  The telephone rang. The lieutenant picked up the receiver, and a crisp voice snapped two words at him. Automatically he said, "Thank you," and hung up. Then he turned to the boys with a bland smile and asked, "What is a Red Alert?"
  Instantly the room came to life. Helmets, guns, gas masks were grabbed up as the men poured through the door and hit the slit-trenches. The place looked cyclone-swept. The lieutenant stared in amazement, and at the same moment, the siren set up a wall of unmistakable warning.
  Came the dawn of realization. Came to life one embarrassed censor. Adjoing to the trench outside, he suffered manfully the chuckles that greeted him. The warning, as it turned out, was no mere pratice. At long last the boys hereabouts have found a way to get back at the censor in case he reduces their love letters to a string of paper cut-outs. All they need to do is tip-toe quietly into his office, regard him with questioning naivete and ask softly, "Lieutenant, what's a Red Alert?"


  It was two years ago the other day at APO 884 that a meagre contingent of khaki moved into a few old bashas and opened shop for the first Air Service Command air depot in CBI-land. The occasion was celebrated by a bash of Coney Island revelry called "Brazil Nuts Day." Top honors went to old Jumbo, the biggest mass of elephant ever seen in India and belonging to the Maharajah of Bharatpur. His massive head chromatically and artistically painted, he strutted majestically about the field and halted while the "shutter bugs" snapped their pictures. Coins were tossed on small squares in one concession. During one 23 minutes of watchful waiting, no one won. But the money was for a good cause - it went to the post's athletic and recreation fund.

The C.B.I. Roundup is a weekly newspaper published by and for the men of the United States Army Forces in China, Burma, and India, from news and pictures supplied by staff members, soldier correspondents, the United Press, and the Army News Service. The Roundup is published Friday of each week and is printed by The Statesman in New Delhi, India. Editorial matter should be sent directly to Lt. Floyd Walter, Rear Echelon Hq., U.S.A.F., C.B.I., New Delhi, and should arrive not later than Monday in order to make that week's issue. Pictures must arrive by Sunday and must be negatives or enlargements. Stories should contain full name and organization of sender.

APRIL 6, 1944    

Original issue of C.B.I. Roundup shared by Virginia Dyer, widow of CBI veteran Stanley Dyer.

(Image of General Wingate from alternate source)

Copyright © 2006 Carl Warren Weidenburner. All rights reserved.