VOL. II      NO. 37      REG NO. L5015      DELHI, THURSDAY              MAY 25, 1944

Strong Chinese-American Forces Storm Myitkyina
As "H" hour nears, P-40's taxi out upon the runway of a Northern Burma airstrip, poised to takeoff for the attack on Myitkyina.
Gliders are ready, too, to transport Engineering troops and equipment to prepare the Japanese airfield for landing of reinforcements.

First enemy prisoner gave valuable information to the invaders.
Lt. Gen. Joseph Stilwell exhibits his victory smile at the airfield.
A group of Yanks proudly display a Japanese flag they captured.

Merrill's Marauders draw a bead upon a Japanese Zero about to attack the airfield, newly won by Chinese-American troops.

This is the tow ship which brought in the first glider. It was piloted by Brig. Gen. William D. Old, Troop Carrier Command boss.
Local inhabitants flock onto the airfield to help the Yanks unload the gliders. Smoke of Jap mortar fire can be seen in background.

    MYITKYINA - A Japanese suicide force, trapped beyond apparent hope of reinforcement was today selling the rain-swept ruins of Myitkyina as dearly as possible.
  Little doubt has been expressed over the ultimate outcome, the Chinese-American forces of Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell having fanned to the north and south of the town and backed the Japs against the lazy horseshoe curve of the slate-colored Irrawaddy River with an aggressive frontal drive from the airfield to the west.
  But the besieged enemy has burrowed himself into the vitals of Myitkyina with his customary cunning and tenacity, and dislodging him will be doubtless a bitter, bloody task.

  While Brig. Gen. Frank Merrill's Chinese-reinforced Marauders continued to apply pressure upon the town, an Order of the Day was received by Stilwell from Lord Louis Mountbatten in which command of the Chindits was officially turned over to Uncle Joe.
  Declared Mountbatten: "By the boldness of your leadership, backed by the courage and endurance of your American and Chinese troops, who through the element of surprise achieved the most outstanding success by seizing Myitkyina airfield. The crossing of the 6,100-foot Naura Myket Pass is a feat which will live in military history. Please convey my personal congratulations and thanks to all ranks including Gen. Lentaigne's forces who are now under your command and have been severing Japanese communications between Myitkyina and the south."
  Since May 17, when Merrill's forces swept out of the hills from the north to capture Pamati airfield, the Allied position has been perceptibly strengthened.

  Blessed at the outset by favorable weather, transport planes ran on an uninterrupted schedule to land and appreciable flow of reinforcements and disgorge mounting stacks of food, ammunition and supplies. When at week's end, the rains came, converting the airstrip and the underfooting everywhere to goo, they continued to arrive although landings became tricky and hazardous. Meanwhile, however, Airborne Engineers continued to work industriously to improve the field.
  At the start of the operations, numerous American fighter and fighter-bomber planes pealing off at low level strafed the guts of Myitkyina, the exchange of tracers standing out against the green backdrop of the cloud-hung mountains to the east. The rain has curtailed the activity of Brig. Gen. John Eagan's planes during the last few days but they are poised at their bases for its cessation.
  The perimeter around the important Pamati airfield was consolidated Saturday, when Chinese troops combed the vicinity with machine guns, rifles and mortars and now the crack of snipers' rifles is seldom heard there.
  Meanwhile, the column which swept frontally from the west into the chaos of shell holes, bomb craters and shattered buildings has taken a third of Myitkyina. The cost has been heavy, for the Japanese have been lashing back from underground, strongly-built defenses and on occasion counter-attacking fiercely, but there is the satisfaction that the enemy's losses have been greater.
  The railway station has been a bone of furious contention, changing hands several times, and the situation there is still described as "confused."
  The town bazaar appears to be the strong point of enemy resistance. Here the Japs are utilizing the buildings' walls in a complex pattern of trenches, foxholes and log-roofed dugouts and were expending ammunition profligately.
  While the frontal attack from the west was being launched, other units of Stilwell's forces were fanning around Myitkyina from the north and south to cut off escape of the town's defenders and to prevent the remote possibility of reinforcements breaking through. On the 19th, the villages of Zigyun and Katkyo at the southern tip of the horseshow bend of the Irrawaddy were occupied and, a day later, patrols crossed the river. Other of Merrill's forces meanwhile, drove down from the north, captured the villages of Namkwi and Charpate, seized a position dominating the intersection of roads from Myitkyina to Mogaung and Fort Hertz and, at last reports, had penetrated southward toward Myitkyina.
  Shortly after the airfield was captured, Stilwell landed on the strip in "Uncle Joe's Chariot," his personal plane, piloted by Capt. Emmet Theisen, for a conference with his key subordinates: Scholarly-appearing Merrill; small, wiry Col. Charles Hunter; and American-educated Col. Lee Chun, Merrill's Chief of Staff. Ten hitch-hiking war correspondents accompanied Uncle Joe and when they asked him for a comment, he quipped: "It seems we are in Myitkyina."
  Two hours after Stilwell left, four Zeros strafed the field and a British gun crew which had just landed, hastily set up a weapon and knocked one of them down. However, enemy air reaction has been negligible.
  In turning the Chindits over to Stilwell, Mountbatten gave strong recognition to Stilwell's inspired fight to clear Northern Burma and open up a land route from India to China. Uncle Joe now commands the most colorful, cosmopolitan army in the world, comprising Chinese, Americans, English, Scots, West Africans, Gurkhas, Kachins and a few Burmese.

  Sitting in the light of a dim hurricane lantern, surrounded by a whirling halo of bizarre insects, and with rain drumming on the tautened, sodden canvas of his tent. Stilwell said to a handful of bedraggled, mud-caked American, Australian, Chinese and Indian war correspondents "We are all glad to welcome Gen. Lentaigne's forces to this command. This should indicate to the Jap that his future road in these parts will be even rougher than ever."
  There has been no question of the effectiveness of the Chindits in aiding the Chinese-American advance down the Mogaung Valley and now lending support to the siege of Myitkyina. In little more than two months' operations behind Jap lines south of the enemy bases of Myitkyina and Mogaung, the Chindits have fought four major battles and many minor clashes and have counted the bodies of 3,000 enemy dead. At the same time, the Japanese have been unable adequately to supply or reinforce their troops pitted against Stilwell's forces.
  This week was not an impressive one for the Chinese 22nd and 38th Divisions pushing down the Mogaung Valley toward Kamaing, but the weather was a large factor in slowing up their advance. Tanks, for instance, could not operate except along good roads, which are few.
  The noose thrown around Warong by the 38th Division is being tightened and an attempt to reinforce the dwindling garrison was broken up with losses to the Japanese. The 22nd Division maintained its road block south of Malakawng and launched repeated attacks which cut into enemy strength. And more authority was given to the Chinese salient at Manpin by the arrival of reinforcements from the north to join the spearheading units.
  For two principal reasons, the Japanese stand to lose heavily by surrendering Myitkyina. Firstly, it is the heart of Jap vitality in Northern Burma; its fall would isolate the enemy's battle-weary forces in the Mogaung Valley, sandwiching them between the 22nd and 38th Divisions driving from the north, the Chindits operating below them to the south and the Chinese-American units at Myitkyina to the east. Secondly, the consequences of Jap inability to hold Myitkyina would not be lost upon the Burmese, whose loyalty to the enemy has already been severely strained.
  To complete the Ledo Road, the men of Stilwell must mop up two tough pockets after Myitkyina falls. The first of these is the sector between the town and the 22nd and 38th Divisions in the Mogaung Valley. It is expected that the Japanese will eventually fall back upon Mogaung for a last-ditch stand, not only to delay progress of the road to China, but also to complicate the Allied supply problem at Myitkyina. The other area is that between Myitkyina and the Chinese armies advancing from the Salween, only 95 miles as the crow flies, but 250 miles by the only available road. If Stilwell chooses that route, he'll be obliged to push southeast from Myitkyina to Bhamo, where it turns north to Tengchung in Southwest China. Bhamo could be a tough nut to crack, but Stilwell would have the co-operation of the Chinese divisions pushing from the Salween, as well as the hard-hitting Chindits.
  Chinese units under Gen. Wei Li-huang which last week forced the Salween, captured Mamein Pass this week and moved on to the Shweli River, marched into the ruins of Pingka and pressed on towards the village of Singta.
  Strong Jap counter-attacks have been pushed back all along the 100-mile front, with the effective support of the 14th Air Force being a determining factor.
  Particularly bitter fighting is reported in progress in the vicinity of Tatangtze where the enemy has been encircled. Other Chinese troops have reached the outskirts of Hupan, southeast of Kunlung.
  With the partial snipping of Jap communications between Myitkyina and Bhamo, the Burma Road out of Lashio appears now to be the only practicable escape route for the enemy.


  The Army Signal Corps pictures of the Myitkyina airfield capture were rushed to the Roundup personally by Capt. Frank Wilson, Public Relations officer with the Chinese-American combat troops. Wilson boarded a plane and 24 stirring hours later the negatives had been developed and printed and the pictures were on their way to the engravers. - The Editor.

PRIVATE LOUIE    By Somerville
So, Louie - you thought that you would like to sleep late and have it taken out of your pay -!!

A Chinese-reinforced Marauder column under the command of Col. Charles Hunter was the first to reach the Myitkyina airstrip after their epochal 20-day, 112-mile march from the Mogaung Valley over a tortuous trail.

Chicago Sun Correspondent

  MYITKYINA - Tillman Durdin, of the New York Times and I are the first correspondents into Myitkyina airfield this morning, less than 20 hours after its capture by Brig. Gen. Frank D. Merrill's Chinese-American forces. Throughout the night, gliders and troop carriers have been landing reinforcements and supplies - a seemingly endless trail of them. Myitkyina is to our west, two miles away. The battle line is to our west, 1,000 yards.
  There is still fighting at the airfield. I no sooner step out of my Piper Cub than a sniper's bullet puts a neat little hole in the wing above my head, and my pilot, S/Sgt. Glenn Goodson and I stroll nonchalantly and unhurriedly away to impress the Jap with contempt of his shooting, but hating every step of it just the same.

  Down at the south end of the field, there is a sharp burst of fire, a little bit of everything, including mortar, and Capt. Roy King, of the airborne ack-ack people, has three of his friends killed around him and two others wounded, leaving him in sole charge of the gun. The Chinese troops follow their mortar fire into this Jap pocket and kill 18 of the enemy themselves. King said, "This is the first time I've ever seen anyone killed - they were my friends - it made me a little sick."
  I find a slit trench near redheaded Col. Charles Hunter's command post and settle down to light housekeeping, Myitkyina style. Thirty-nine-year-old West Pointer Hunter, in battle, looks like a circus clown with filthy green baggy pants, mosquito boots, no shirt, three days' beard on a red, dust-caked face and a front tooth missing. But what it takes to fight battles is not missing.

  An apparition lopes up the trail. It is lanky, drawling tobacco-chewing Capt. John McElmurry, who reports, "They just killed four snipers in the bush, the Chinese did, went into the bush with grenades - the Japs got one of our boys first, through the face - the bastards!"
  Mule columns are crossing the field now, and a string of transports are coming in to land. The Chinese don't stop crossing the field, they just duck or lie flat and let the planes' wings and wheels pass them, missing them by a few feet.
  Someone says, "They're bringing in a prisoner," and Lt. Albert Higgins comes up in a jeep with a Jap on an improvised bamboo stretcher. "Here's your baby," says bleary-eyed Higgins, and interpreters start to question the prisoner, who is wounded in the abdomen. A soldier says: "This guy was lucky - we filled the rest of them full of lead."
  Maj. Louis J. Williams squats by the Jap while the medics work to save his life. A ragged soldier says disgustedly, "This goddamn Jap said he was through with the war - the bastard spoke good English - wanted us to kill him -and now we give him medical treatment." He walks away shaking his head.
  Col. Chun Lee, Merrill's chief of staff, comes across the field and, thinking the Jap is a Chinese, gives him a drink of water from his canteen. Water is scarce as hell here at the moment and when Lee is informed that the wounded man is a Jap, he stands up with an outraged look on his face and exclaims, "Well, I'll be goddamned!"
  The interpreter by the Jap stands up and yells, "This guy says somebody stole his watch. Says he won't talk 'til he gets it back."
  Williams replies, "Tell him we'll get him his watch back or get him a new one."
  The soldiers are looking at the Jap with expressions on their filthy faces like they were eating caterpillars. "I'd give him a watch," says a soldier, "I'd sure as hell give him a watch, my own personal watch," and he adds with beautiful hatred, "the bastard!"
  Out on the strip, the baby bulldozers are filling the holes left by the Japs' mortar fire this morning. Files of heavily-laden Chinese troops go past us, forward into the line. They get off the planes, pick up their guns, and go right into the line. There is sporadic machine gun fire popping in almost every direction, but nobody pays any attention to it. Fighters, Mustangs, roll overhead and are good to see. They peel off and go down into the town of Myitkyina and work it over with cannon and machine guns, and we can see the smoke streaming from their guns as they dive, and then a long time later, we hear the crackle of the shot.
  The transports are raising clouds of red dust against a gray sky that, in the distance, is filled with enormous thunderheads. A wounded Chinese boy, with his arm bandaged, sits on an oil drum and shades his eyes from the dust. The machine guns beat their lonely patter. Somebody, digging a hole, stirs up a swarm of bees that, for a moment, fill the sky near us as everybody ducks, yelling and howling and laughing and then they are gone and the air is rich with curses.
  Young Higgins comes back with sweat streaking his dirty face and dust caked in his moustache. He says, "I just had a close call. There were seven Japs at the edge of the field, and they hit the guy right in front of me, hit him bad, had him pinned down - we got them out with grenades!" He turns to the medics and says, "Hey, doc, how about the man with the face wound?"
  Nearby, a Chinese soldier's gun goes off accidentally and everybody runs, ducking, hitting the ground, thinking it's a Jap sniper in close. I get to my hands and knees and, turning, see the wounded Jap prisoner sitting up, grinning at our confusion. The soldiers see it too, and quickly stand up, cursing the prisoner until the grin goes off his face.
  So, you see, this is the way it was, and if it sounds confused, that's because it was confused. I couldn't help being confused and, besides I'm writing this on the edge of a slit trench and it's raining and the field is under fire.


  MYITKYINA - Just before the battle for Myitkyina airfield, not knowing whether it was going to come off or not, Lt. Gen. Joseph W. Stilwell radioed Brig. Gen. Frank Merrill: "Looks like we're going into the ninth inning with the score 0-0 and you're the first batter up."
  Merrill replied for his Marauders: "I hope to fill the bases for you. The importance of this last inning appreciated and we will not pull a Casey at the Bat."
EAC Downs 213 Nips For 10-Week Period

  NEW DELHI - Communiqués from EAC Headquarters up to May 21 reveal that in the past 10 weeks the Third Tactical Air Force has destroyed 213 Japanese aircraft on or over enemy airfields in Burma.
  Seventy-eight were in combat and 135 on the ground. Another 31 probables were claimed and 58 enemy craft were damaged. Only three Allied aircraft were lost.
  Two USAAF squadrons have carried on where the American Air Commandos left off when they destroyed 44 Jap planes aground.
  For the second consecutive week, no summary of EAC activities was received from EAC Headquarters.

The Roundup dedicates this week's cheesecake to Merrill's Marauders, who with their Chinese comrades in arms, eliminated Myitkyina as the Japanese citadel in Northern Burma this week. We don't think that lovely Esther Williams will mind.

  MYITKYINA AIRFIELD - Hero of the Myitkyina operations was a baby-faced native youth who guided our forces directly to the airfield over a route which enabled us to evade Jap positions.
  Enroute, little Nau Wong Nau, bitten by a poisonous snake, still endured terrible suffering until he had completed the mission because, fortunately for us, he idolized Americans and, like most Kachins, deeply hated the Japanese.
  Nau Wong Nau was only one of many Kachin scouts with our forces, who knew, but seldom used the track, which apparently the Japs didn't know even existed. Before the war, he'd often traveled this route from his mountain village in Rawa Bum district south through the foothills to Myitkyina.
  On May 16, Col. Charles M. Hunter, who was leading the most forward column, broke radio silence to send the most important two-word message - "Crossword Puzzle" - which, according to arrangements made beforehand meant he would attack the airfield within 24 hours.
  For many hours the advance moved slowly, then suddenly the columns halted. The reason wasn't Jap opposition but that the lead scout Nau Wong Nau, had been bitten by a two-foot viper snake while picking a difficult track. But after a brief pause, the game little Kachin insisted he could carry on so the forward march order was issued.
  For two hours, Nau Wong Nau limped along in agony, then when he could endure the suffering no longer he collapsed on the trail. He was revived by slashing his leg around the bite in an effort to bleed the poison from his body. Nau Wong Nau suffered in silence during the painful operation.
  After a half hour rest, he murmured, "It isn't far now," and indicated that he was ready to resume the march. But Hunter refused to allow him to suffer more and ordered a horse for the guide. For the next few miles, Nau Wong Nau's sharp eyes picked the faint track from the horse's back, while two Americans walked alongside holding him on the animal.
  Nau Wong Nau guided the column virtually to the airfield and then with the mission completed, he this time passed out completely.
  Today Nau Wong Nau appeared near death as the frail little fellow who says he's "20 harvests old," but looks no more than 12, lay with his eyes closed under a tent improvised from a parachute. However, the American doctor treating him said his patient had passed the crisis and contends that Nau Wong Nau will be up and around in a few days.
  Eyeing his patient with admiration, the doctor said, "If that boy doesn't get a medal then they should take every other damned medal given out in this war, put them on a raft and shove them out to sea."

Gurkhas Sever Jap Supply Line On Tiddim Road

  NEW DELHI - British forces in Manipur were hitting at the Japs on all sides this week as the weary invaders faced liquidation in the Kohima area.
  Enemy losses for their India campaign have mounted to 7,600 SEAC stated.
  The British were making progress around Imphal in their attempts to relieve the isolated Manipur capital, despite strong enemy counter-attacks. A daring encirclement move by a Gurkha brigade had cut the main Japanese supply route from Tiddim up to Imphal. The British had established a firm roadblock there to beat the Nips at one of their own favorite tricks.
  Vicious bombing attacks by the Tactical Air Force had also blocked this supply artery. After a particularly heavy deluge by USAAF bombers, a landslide developed, completely blocking off sections of the road.

  With the conclusion of the battle that swept the Japs from their positions in the Kohima area, British forces drove out against Nips to the northeast and were reported to be making progress there and harassing Nip communications. The British also were striking at Mao Sang, south of Kohima.
  The 40-day battle for Kohima cost the Japs over 3,000 casualties, it was revealed by the British. The British garrison numbering 3,500 was under constant siege for 13 days before relieving columns broke through from Dimapur.
  During this siege, EAC planes came to the rescue with airborne supplies which enabled the defenders to hold out until reinforcements arrived. From then on the British were on the offensive, with the biggest battle at Treasury Hill.

  The British also revealed that the entire 5th Indian Division had been transported by air by Brig. Gen. William Old's Troop Carrier Command from the Arakan to the Imphal front at the time the Nips were threatening to move into the Manipur Plain.
  The Arakan was generally quiet during the week except for sporadic patrol clashes. Heavy rains have bogged down both sides.
  Congratulations have come from Prime Minister Churchill to Adm. Sir James F. Somerville for the part his fleet played on the raid against Sourabaya in the East Indies. In this operation, units of the British Far Eastern Fleet co-operated with the American Pacific Fleet for the first combined operations between the two since the outbreak of the war.

Two-Man Yank Task Force Joins British In Kohima Action

  KOHIMA FRONT - They could have been lolling in ease at a rest camp, but Sgt. Charles L. Harrell, of Yuma, Ariz., and Pvt. Max G. Peterson, of Marlington, W. Va., had other ideas on how to spend their 14-day furlough.
  Instead, they took part in a fierce tank charge in the Deputy Commissioner's bungalow area in Kohima as a two-man Yank task force.
  British Division HQ was completely non-plussed when the two members of the American-operated railway in Assam appeared and announced they wanted to be allowed to go on patrols and kill Japs. Harrell and Peterson declared that they had told their commanding officer their intention and, with a fine show of understanding, he had said "All I know is that you are on 14 days' leave. What you do with it is your business."
  The two volunteers were in their tank for 12 hours in the thick of the fighting and approached the mouth of a Japanese bunker to spit grenades and machine gun fire at the enemy.
  According to Associated Press of India, the two Yankees reported they had a "swell time."
  Anglo-American relations in the area were described as excellent.

Nurse Injured   IN JAP ATTACK

  MYITKYINA AIRDROME - Lt. Audrey Rogers, of Burkburnett, Tex., a nurse attached to the Air Evacuation Unit here, was slightly wounded in the calf of her left leg by bomb fragments, becoming the first American girl hurt by enemy action in Burma.
  Miss Rogers had loaded three patients aboard the plane and orderlies were carrying a fourth when the Japanese made a dive-bombing attack. The bomb landed nearby and shrapnel almost cut the fourth patient in half, killing him instantly.
  Despite injuries to personnel and damage to the plane, the pilot managed to take off and return to the base hospital.


  MYITKYINA - Swiftly, unexpectedly, Brig. Gen. Frank Merrill's Marauders, reinforced by Chinese, swept north out of the hills to seize the important airfield two miles west of Myitkyina, Jap hub of communications in Northern Burma.
  Mystery had cloaked the movements of the Marauders for more than three weeks. During that period, they were winning a dramatic race against time, distance, geography and climate. They marched 112 miles in 20 days over one of the most formidable routes nature has thrown in the path of an attacking force during this war.
  On April 27, the Marauders were grouped into three combat teams, each strengthened by Chinese reinforcements. They were destined to be supplied solely by air; to march, often stretched out single file for miles, along slimy trails clogged with mud; to be drenched by incessant rain that let up only when they reached Myitkyina; to sleep on the ground; to never take off their clothes.

  The first eight days of the trek were the worst. Only 16 miles were covered during that period, but, according to one of the Marauders, "It was a damned sight farther than that by trail."
  For two of these days, they struggled up a mountain barrier generally believed impassable for a large force. Within the space of a mile, the elevation rose sharply from 1,100 feet to 6,000. The soldiers literally had to crawl. Twenty-five percent of the pack mules, carrying heavy weapons and equipment, slipped and toppled to their death over precipices. The march down was almost as arduous, because of the steepness of the grades.
  Twice the leading column, commanded by Col. Henry L. Kinnison, Jr., of Albuquerque, N.M., was harassed by Japs, but on both occasions the enemy was routed.
  On the 10th and 11th days, Kinnison's men surrounded parts of two companies of Japs. Having no ammunition, they bided their time until some was airdropped, then attacked and killed 90 of the enemy.

  Shortly after, near Tingrukawng, with high winds and heavy rain lashing the lead column, it bumped into another large group of Japs. When the bitter fighting was finished, 65 more enemy bodies were counted.
  Two medical units, including a part of lt. Col. Gordon S. Seagrave's unique outfit, accompanied the Marauders. Wounded and sick were evacuated by liaison planes.
  Behind Kinnison's spearhead marched columns commanded by Col. Charles Hunter, Cheyenne, Wyo., and Lt. Col. George McGee, Minot, N.D. The Chinese contingents maintained their identities but closely co-operated with the Yanks throughout the march, earning their unstinted praise. Merrill's chief of staff has been Chinese Col. Chun Lee.
  On the 16th day, Kinnison's column confused Jap intelligence officers by feinting to the east. The enemy gullibly followed, while other Marauder columns beelined for Myitkyina, unmolested. Meanwhile, Kinnison's unit succeeded in avoiding the Japs and caught up with Hunter and McGee before they reached their objective.
  During the last few days, the Marauders moved at night for reasons of security. They reached the wooded area near the airdrome the night of May 15 and spent two nights and a day deploying, apparently unknown to the Japs. Just before the attack, they blew up the railroad and motor bridges east of Myitkyina, connecting Myitkyina with Jap forces in the Mogaung Valley.
  Merrill's Marauders have now marched 750 miles and fought three major engagements since they went into action in February.


  ASC BASE, ASSAM - When Capt. Didrick Sannes and eight G.I.'s caught a glimpse of the prospective victim on their tiger hunt they were wishing the originator of Hold That Tiger was around.
  For soon after entering the jungle at this out-of-the-way ASC base, they spotted a giant Royal Bengal tiger. They threw a few hasty shots; then, deciding that discretion was the better part of valor, beat an inglorious retreat
  Inside the camp, they reorganized their tactics and started out anew. This time their counter-attack proved too much for the beast, who was perforated with so many holes no one could decide which of the party had committed the tiger murder.
  So the entire group cast lots for the skin and Sgt. Simon Thole will carry back a tiger's coat to Shangri-La to prove that all the thrilling tales of the CBI soldiers is true.
  Circled around the victim in the picture above are the hunters, from left to right: Pvt. Willie F. Powell, Cpl. Edwin H. Hurd, T/Sgt. Calvin Graham, M/Sgt. Chester L. Hamsher, Capt. Didrick Sannes, 1st Sgt. Kenneth Chapman, Cpl. Minard Joes, Pfc. Ray Mills and Sgt. Simon Thole. The tiger weighed nearly 600 pounds and was within a few inches of being 10 feet in length.

Capt. Yong

  By Sgt. AL SAGER   Traveling Roundup Correspondent

  CHINA - Somewhere flying over Jap territory is a P-40 fighter plane of the Chinese-American Composite Wing. At the controls is a heroic Chinese pilot, veteran of seven years of war, we shall call "Capt. Yong." His real name must be withheld, because his family is still under Jap domination in Manchuko.
  When the ruthless Japanese Army occupied his home city of Mukden in 1931, Capt. Yong, then a teen-aged youngster, fled to join the Chinese guerillas.
  "My group was finally defeated after a year of fighting," he reluctantly informs you, "and I escaped to Peiping and attended the university there."

  Placid school life was too much a strain on him, however, with ominous war clouds hovering over China. A year later, he entered the Chinese Military Academy at Loyang in Shansi. Upon winning his commission, he gravitated to the Hangshow Flying Academy, then under American Military Mission instructors, headed by Jack Jouett.
  When war erupted with explosive finality in 1937, Yong was one of the handful of qualified pilots of the midget Chinese Air Force. In spite of flying such a tiny force of out-dated American planes, the brave Chinese birdmen were still able to bag over 500 Jap planes during six years.

  Early in 1938, during a series of bitter dogfights in the Hankow area, 47 Jap planes were brought down. During these engagements, Yong was shot up; an ankle remains stiff even to this day.
  "I was flying a plane similar to your AT-6," he relates, "when four Jap Zeros came upon me. I rolled over and the first missed me, and I caught him in my sights, giving him a long burst. He went down smoking. The next Zero followed him in and brought me down. My ankle is still stiff from wounds in that battle, but you know in China we are short-handed of pilots, so they must keep me."
  Yong is a squadron leader today. He flies one of our fleet, high-powered American fighter planes, flanked by the cream of Chinese fighter pilots and Americans who are helping carry the fight to the Japs.
  He epitomizes the spirit typical of the intrepid Chinese airmen.


  MYITKYINA - Brig. Gen. Frank Merrill's Marauders had numerous opportunities to acquire Jap souvenirs in the Mogaung Valley before they started their 22-day, 112-mile drive upon Myitkyina airfield.
  No memento, however, was more confounding than that picked up by a Marauder who had killed a Jap officer.
  Prize article of his booty was a huge samurai sword, a lovely, gleaming thing three feet long with a heavy, curved blade and a double-grip handle. Beneath the handle, beautifully worked in leather, was a double row of jewels. One American major offered $500 outright for the weapon.
  But here is the punch line: On the handle end of the blade was the inscription - "Finest Tempered Steel. Made in Cincinnati, Ohio, U.S.A."

Key Objective Falls Within Hour

  MYITKYINA - At his jungle headquarters above Myitkyina, Brig. Gen. Frank Merrill anxiously awaited word of attack on the morning of May 17. Twenty days before, 112 miles away over one of the toughest jungle trails and Infantry unit has been called upon to march, three columns of his Chinese-reinforced Marauders had started their epic drive to recapture the airfield, taken by the Japanese over two years ago, May 9, 1942. Now the column of Marauders commanded by Col. Charles Hunter had deployed and was poised to strike.
  Hunter had open orders to follow his own judgment when to attack.
  Suddenly Merrill's radio crackled, "We are in the ring." It was the code phrase that Hunter's Chinese-American forces were sweeping toward the field.

  The attack was swiftly carried out. At 11:55 a.m., less than an hour after Hunter's forces started moving, the airfield was in its hands as the message, "Cafeteria Lunch," (airfield taken), informed Merrill. Opposition was negligible. Distraught by the number and diversity of Allied attacks throughout Northern Burma, and not expecting the audacious Marauders to strike so far east, the enemy was caught unprepared.
  Only empty gasoline cans and logs scattered about the field delayed the landing of transports and gliders carrying Airborne Engineers to prepare the field for the landing of Infantry reinforcements. This impedimenta was cleared away in 37 minutes by Hunter's men, helped by 50 Madras Indians, forced laborers, who deserted the Japanese when the Marauders arrived. Within 40 minutes of receiving the announcement "Merchant of Venice" (awaiting transports), transports and gliders, carrying Engineers, swarmed upon the field and by mid-afternoon the strip was ready and a steady steam of combat reinforcements were landing like clockwork.
  Distinction of being the first party to reach the airfield went to a company of Chinese whose commander ordered them to run the last few yards. They were followed immediately thereafter by the Yanks.

  Shortly after, Merrill hopped into his liaison plane piloted by Lt. John Reid, Cedar Rapids, Ia. He described the sky as "black with airplanes - ours." He saw Mustangs strafing the edges of Myitkyina in the horseshoe bend of the slate-colored Irrawaddy River and black clouds from Allied mortar fire blossoming within the city. Already Hunter's troops had turned east and opened their assault upon the Jap citadel.
  The best weather in weeks was an important factor in the success of the opening phases of operation. It provided colorful Brig. Gen. William Old's Troop Carrier Command transport planes with the protective umbrella of Brig. Gen. John Egan's fighter planes. Egan's fighters and fighter-bombers has softened up the enemy for weeks, but he warned, "We should have fun here soon. I do not imagine the Japs will take this sitting down."
  As Hunter's forces moved into the airfield, other forces blew the rail and road bridges west of Myitkyina which link the Mogaung Valley with the key Northern Burma city. McGee's unit clamped a road block on the line of communications to the Mogaung Valley to further split enemy strength.
  Capt. Elmer Roscoe, Youngstown, O., led the Airborne Engineers and was critical of the Japs efforts to fill the bomb craters left by Allied attacks. He disclosed that only one of his men was injured during the landings.

Trio Traverse Hump --- By Foot

  Flying The Hump, once one of the most hazardous aerial operations in history, is still far from kid's play... but it is being inexorably reduced to routine by the expert pilots of the CBI Theater.
  Not so routine, however, was a recent trip from Yunnan Province, China, across the great divide into Burma by Maj. Ingvald E. Madsen, Capt. Timothy A. Callahan, Jr., and Lt. Shelton A. Musser.
  Their perilous journey was revealed the other day when the were awarded the Legion of Merit by Maj. Gen. W. E. R. Covell, SOS chieftain.
  Some months ago, the Service of Supply decided it needed more detailed information about the little-known areas between India and China - information which could not be gleaned from aerial photographs of the region but only from on-the-ground reconnaissance. The three officers volunteered to organize a party and make the trip, learning about the terrain, the natives, jungle health problems and other matters as they trudged along a trail part of which, some say, was once traversed by Marco Polo.
  After organizing their plans, the three officers started out from Yunnan Province accompanied by Robert and Eugene Morse, sons of a missionary of the region, and a party of 30 native porters. Two months later, they staggered into an Allied Burma base - thin, sick, weary and bitten by insects, but with the mission accomplished and their notebooks bulging with the information they had been set to get.
  Part of the trip was made on horseback. A good part of it, however, had to be made on foot. Insects, malaria and dysentery, and the disappearance of porters, plagued the party. Towering peaks and raging rivers had to be surmounted. Fortunately, the natives were friendly and the knowledge of customs and manners possessed by the tow civilians kept them that way.
  Food was a problem. Before the trip started, the members of the party were advised that rice would be the most practical food to take because of the weight of canned American foods. The men soon found, however, that at least two pounds of uncooked rice daily are necessary to keep an American at top efficiency, and they couldn't eat that much. They had with them, however, a small amount of American "K" and "D" rations, which enabled them to get by, but not without great loss of weight and energy.
  At the trip's conclusion, the three officers - each of whom at one time or another had narrowly missed losing his life - were unanimous in their conviction that it was a great experience to look back on, but not one they would care to repeat too often.

Hungry Jap Bows To Empty Rifle

  ALONG THE LEDO ROAD - A bedraggled creature in green came along the river's edge. "He was dirty, tired looking and indicated he wanted food," said Cpl. Calvin Leightling, who related the story.
  An Engineer of a pontoon company, sitting on a tree stump nearby, had just finished cleaning his rifle. Hw stood up, rifle at port and walked toward his tent past the man.
  The figure in green froze, threw his hands in the air in a surrendering stance. "A Jap," the Engineer shouted, "Get another rifle."
  Instantly a G.I. bolted out of a tent with a loaded tommy gun. Then the Engineer, smiling, showed the Jap he had no shells. The Jap prisoner was disinterested. He wanted food.


The silver brooch of butterfly design
Recalled the summer days one girl was mine
But now that I believe she spoke untruth
And never meant her kiss, a tiger's tooth
Sent back for souvenir would picture best
How memory is gnawing in my breast.
The bracelet finely wrought with lace-like stars
recalled romantic nights that once were ours
Yet, even as I bought the gift, I saw
I should have purchased her a lion's paw
Since it would symbolize, perhaps in part,
Her gentle hand that pounced upon my heart
The necklace chain in flowered filigree
Recalled her garden where she walked with me
I should have wrapped and mailed a leopard skin
For her so fair who proved so false within
But silver brooch and bracelet and chain
May get her to begin to write again.


ASC Adopts 'Hobbie'


  AN ASC BASE IN ASSAM, APO 446 - Little "Hobbie." aged four and one-half, is too small to understand the difference between a G.I. and a Jap, and had never heard, until recently, of that strange land, the United States. But if anyone thinks he is not now an official member of the Air Service Command outfit, there are G.I.'s up here who are ready and willing to make something out of it.
  Hobbie's introduction to G.I. life occurred on a cold Dec. 29, when the starving Indian child wandered up to a campfire around which a squad of G.I.'s were digging into some chow. Spindly-limbed and swollen stomached, Hobbie did not beg for food or shelter. He was too young, and too far gone. He just stood and looked. And somehow his gaze seemed to penetrate tight into four hairy G.I. chests.

  They were those of M/Sgt. Carlton T. Williamson, of Shreveport, La.; T/Sgt. Walter L. Paget, of Seminary, Miss.; Cpl. Keith Bouton of Englewood, Colo.; and T/Sgt. Everett C. Roberts. And though the four are as rugged as they come, there was something un-American about sitting around eating while a starving child looks on.
  So they picked the kid up, fed him, washed him, and took him back to their tents for the night. The next morning, Indian interpreters brought out an old familiar story: "No mama, no papa." Briefly, it was then and there that Hobbie was unofficially but firmly adopted. Today he is the squadron's mascot.
  And already he's a regular G.I. He sweats out the chow line with the boys, bringing his own mess equipment. When someone bids him goodbye, he tosses a sharp high-ball. He bunks in the tent with his original sponsors, whom he knows by such names as "Cee-Tee," "Knothead" and "Coco." His proudest possession is a small suitcase, which he uses as a foot-locker. The boys have chipped-in voluntarily to a fund to provide his clothes and other small needs.
  And they're caring, too, for his intellect. Hobbie, who knew not a word of English when adopted, now counts up to nine and is fairly steady on his alphabet up through H. He's also picked up a lot of G.I. vernacular, although the boys, with respect to his youth, are careful to curb their slanguage when he's around.

  In other ways, too, he's becoming Americanized. Washing his teeth is a regular morning ritual and when one of his foster fathers picks up a towel and heads for the showers, Hobbie is right behind him with his own towel. He now stands up in the latrine and has been taught the use of that great American institution, toilet paper. By now he has overcome the physical effects of his lean and hungry period, and Capt. Denning, the squadron medic, has pronounced him completely sound in wind and limb.
  What is Hobbie's future? Not even a crystal gazer can tell. But the whole squadron feels it will be difficult to part with him when they push on. And there's nothing in Army Regulation that provides for a four and one-half year old child.
  Cpl. Roberts, like other G.I.'s has mentioned him in letters to the home folks and his mother writes to send him to her for care in the States. On the other hand, he may have to be turned over to a missionary. Whatever happens, it will be a sad day for Hobbie - and the squadron, too. When they have to part - and the sniffles heard in the squadron area won't all be Hobbie's.

Camel Clubbers Announce Birth Of Organization


  ADVANCED CHINA AIR BASE - The Short Snorters and Caterpillars are outmoded in the opinion of the vociferous 14 charter members of the newly-organized Camel Club.
  "The Came Club - Over The Hump, Get it?" shouts Lt. Ryan G. Renz, precocious Sioux City, Ia., organizer and High Hump of the new order.
  On a dark, rainy night in March at a small Chinese airfield with a cold, blustery wind blowing down the mountains, Renz, warming himself by a small blaze, suddenly whipped out a 100-yuan note. He quickly got the signatures of the 13 other officers present and, before he was done, had also obtained that of Foo Sin, the houseboy, who was an honorary member.

  All the charter members presented one another with 100-yuan bills and signed their names all around until their arms were sore; then the names of all the charter members were typed on the bills and returned to their owners, who were ordered by the High Hump to go forth and secure other members.
  All that is required of a new member is that he get himself a Yuan or a rupee and write on it as follows: "The Camel Club. Over The Hump." Then he must sign it and get as many signatures as he feels inclined.
  "This is a painless organization," the High Hump declared. "Nothing required except an Indian or Chinese bill of any denomination with the signature of the owner thereon. You don't have to pay off if you're not a member. You don't have to buy a batch of drinks if a bunch of members gangs up on you."

  The 14 charter members include Renz, Lts. Hartley F. Mays, High Chump; Charles L. Clayton, High Clump; Richard J. Bussman, High Dump; Fred G. Hayworth, High Jump; Donald Jarrard, High Lump; Martin M. Goldman, High Plump; Stanley Maer, High Pump; William B. Sinclair, High Rump; Hiram M. Young, High Slump; Clyde V. Taylor, High Stump; Chaplain William M. Gilliland, High Thump; Richard K. Stinson, High Trump; and Gene P. Shepherd, High Bump.
  Highest ranking officer in the organization is Lt. Col. Robert J. Koshland, of San Francisco, but the High Hump wants it to be understood he's looking for a general to add prestige to the Camel Club.
  First Sergeant Ivan G. Maddox, San Antonio, was the first non-com to become a Camel Clubber and Lt. Vernon (Skinny) Childers, Austin, Tex., the first pilot to go down on the records.
  All correspondence should go to the High Hump, c/o Public Relations Officer, APO 430 (China).


Assam Nuthouse Show Wows G.I.'s


  ASSAM AIR BASE - Peals of laughter mingled with the patter of rain as 1,200 G.I.'s sat through a drenching downpour to roar at the Hellzapoppin antics of 13 soldiers comprising the cast of Assam Nuthouse, latest of the shows by and for CBI entertainment to hit this area.
  A fast-moving melange of mirth and merriment conceived, directed and emceed by Pfc. Harry Holden, Assam Nuthouse features costumes and a Gypsy Rose Lee-like strip tease by S/Sgt. Eugene Kittrell, former fashion designer with Hattie Carnegie, original music by concert pianist Sgt. Bob Campbell, and an uncomfortably-realistic girlie chorus in the persons of Cpls. Wally Blaskiewicz, Frank Barrious, Ray Schecter and Pvt. Morty Kaufman.
  Pfc. Charles Chew's "Sad Sack," Cpl. Joe Burke's tap dancing, Sgt. Al Detert's harmonica playing, and the clowning of Pfcs. John Upton and Joe Sylvia - all combine to make this ATC-ASC entertainment effort one of the most successful laugh-providers ever to come this way. Tribute to the boys' fun-making propensities was paid by their officer-in-charge, Capt. Bailey, who proudly remarked, "Traveling with these wacky funsters keeps me laughing almost constantly. They're the tops."

Salt Lake City Beauty
'Miss ATC Of 1944'

  APO 882 (Karachi), AIR TRANSPORT COMMAND BASE - Miss Patricia (Pat) Crandall, of Salt Lake City, Utah, has been selected "Miss ATC No.1 of 1944" in a beauty contest here in which photographs were substituted for bonafide beauties.
  Her picture was turned in by Capt. Carl V. Beetham, transport pilot of Lancaster, Wis., who by happy coincidence, obtained his captain's bars shortly after the contest ended. Runner-up in the competition was the photo of Mrs. Mabel Scruggs, Cincinnati, Ohio, wife of Lt. Paul B. Scruggs, station supply officer.
  With feminine pulchritude as scarce as it is in India, the dozens of photos submitted by enlisted men and officers elicited many oh's and ah's when displayed by the Intelligence and Security Office, which supervised the contest.
  Members of the judging committee with the delicate task of ferreting out the winner were Col. James W. Gunn, commanding officer; Capt. David E. James, flight surgeon; Capt. Otis L. Cutler, intelligence and security officer; S/Sgt. Lawrence B. Herring, supply sergeant, and Cpl. James E. Endsley, airplane mechanic and air transportation technician.

Shopkeeper: "Sucker!" . . . . . .  G.I.: "Sucker!"

Look Carefully Before You Leap

  One of the Roundup's historical crusades was directed against unscrupulous merchants, waxing fat and sassy off credulous G.I.'s. But that was quite a few pages of the calendar ago. Since then, ships and airplanes have disgorged a good many more personnel upon the shores of CBI-land; and it is now in order to issue another sharp warning for the benefit of the newcomers to our little family circle.
  While it is unfair to indict all merchants categorically in this neck of the world as dishonest, there has been sufficient evidence of misrepresentation to prompt the Roundup to advise everyone to stop, look and listen before he spends his rupees or CN for either trinkets or more expensive gifts. Proceed, but carefully, upon the premise that all is not gold that glitters.
  Capt. R. Reynolds, Air Corps., APO 882 (Karachi), jogged the Roundup's memory this week with a letter telling an all-to-familiar story of disillusionment. One of his enlisted men purchased an item represented as "bone." When the package was opened in Shangri-La, the "bone" was crumbled into hundreds of bits. This G.I.'s education cost him $3.75. He was fortunate; his experience could have been considerably more dearly purchased.
  Some of the examples of chicanery we published last year were of a more painfully-expensive nature. Most of these revolved around transactions for jewels. Screams of rhetorical anguish rent the pure air of the Roundup office when purchasers learned from Shangri-La that appraisals of their articles disclosed that they had been as neatly out-slickered as the guy who bought the Brooklyn Bridge.
  It is human nature for the newly-arrived G.I. to want to send souvenirs home. But he should be cautioned to wait long enough to be initiated into the principle of the local bargaining system for luxury items, which is to entice as much money out of the G.I.'s pocket as possible.
  Our advice to newcomers is to have a few informative talks with veterans of the Theater before you indiscriminately unload the contents of your wallet. Find out first which merchants are reputable, what the price tag on the article you wish to purchase should read. Proceed too, on the assumption there is an "asking price," scaled high enough so that the "selling price" represents a neat profit. here's an example: The jewel wallah shows G.I. Joe a stone worth 150 rupees. He asks 400. Joe whittles him down to 300, walks away triumphantly, well pleased with his "bargain." Disillusionment, like a hangover after a night of gayety, follows later.
  Unfortunately, every time you pay too much for something, you jack the price up higher for the next guy. The Roundup has watched with alarm the steady inflationary spiral on luxury goods and can assure you it has been astounding to behold. Nor is this stratospheric rise restricted to luxury items. But for you benefit, authorities in many towns have published an official price for necessities and semi-necessities. It is a pious idea, for the general good, to use this as strict guide. Pay no more; inform the authorities when an excessive charge is asked. If your attitude is what the Hell, I can afford it, remember there may be other G.I.'s who cannot, so play fair.
  Anglo-American amity is an important sidelight in this discussion. If Yanks, through thoughtless spending shoot prices skyward, Britons suffer correspondingly. It is a delicate point well worth your consideration. British newcomers, like U.S. troops, are also tarred by the brush of fault, but they are not as richly daubed.
  Don't chum, be a sucker. Clip this editorial and paste it in your hat. Heed it well.
  Not every merchant is a sharpster. You may be receiving full value for your money. But it's a helluva jolt to learn that the star sapphire for which you paid $500 in India can be duplicated on Fifth Avenue, New York, for $75.

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

MAY  25,  1944    

Original issue of C.B.I. Roundup shared by CBI veteran Wally Mason
and by Ruth Canney, widow of CBI veteran John Canney.

Copyright © 2006 Carl Warren Weidenburner. All rights reserved.