Lest We Forget

I was looking for a document on the external hard drive this evening, and came across this account my grandpa wrote a number of years back in response to seeing the message above on a website.

How appropriate to come across it on Remembrance Day.

Whilst over the years my grandparents have talked about the war, the reality of what they lived through is hard to imagine. As a child I loved my grandparents because they were my grandparents; as an adult I have been fortunate to be able to get to know them as people and learn so much from them. It's certainly brought some reality as to what Remembrance Day is about.


I was stumbling round this website when I came across something I will never forget – the message from 23 Div. telling us to leave Sangshak and come back to Imphal.

The battle had raged for five days and I knew from the messages we were sending to 23 Div that our position was becoming increasingly impossible. As the Japs gradually pushed us back, the size of the “box” had been so reduced that it was difficult indeed to drop supplies. Most of the food, water and ammunition were landing in Jap held territory and our shortages were desperately serious. Personally, I had accepted that, sooner or later, we would be over run.

Our only link with 23 Div was by wireless and this was, to say the least, tenuous. The set itself was not powerful enough for the distance involved and we were using “sky wave”, bouncing our transmission signals off an ionized layer (the Heaviside layer) which reflected them back to earth in the region of Imphal – hopefully. The altitude of the said Heaviside layer varied through the 24 hours and this required us, and 23 Div., to change frequency from time to time. This was a tricky operation. One lost contact and just hoped fervently that the theory would work and contact would be restored on the new frequency. Because of the low power of the set we were also using a directional aerial which had to be tied to a tree in the right position. Periodically, the tree or aerial were broken by mortar fire or shells and the aerial had to be repaired and re-tied. At about 5pm on the 24th March we lost contact and it was not until about 5.30 that we managed to restore service. Two British operators were on the set and I stayed on to make sure that all was well and to give a hand on the manually operated “coffee grinder” that generated electricity for the set. This machine was effective and reliable but tiring on the arms. Then it came. I could barely believe my ears but the operator was writing what I thought I was hearing. Essentially the message said “pull out and come home”. A moment of bliss as the possibility – however slim - of a future life dawned.

Then came the doubts. Firstly, was this a genuine message or something sent by the enemy? Secondly, had the Japs intercepted the message – we had destroyed our code books early in the battle to prevent them falling into Japanese hands and had been communicating “in clear” ever since.

On the first issue, we asked for information on the personnel in Brigade Signals. This was personal stuff unlikely to be known by Japanese intelligence and included such details as the nick names of various signalers, including that of the CO. All the questions were answered promptly and correctly and we were reassured that the message was genuine.

On the second issue we could do nothing. I told the two operators to say nothing to anyone and took the message to Brigade HQ, wondering on the way how we would cope with the many wounded in the field “ambulance”. I explained to “Abbot” the possibility that the message may have been intercepted by the enemy. What an opportunity for a major ambush! Action was speedy and troops began to leave the site as soon as darkness fell.

The suggestion of fighting our way out was discarded because we had very little to fight with and would, anyway, have been vastly outnumbered. Instead we were told to move quietly in small groups, avoiding roads and tracks which would very probably be controlled by the Japanese. Just in case the enemy were monitoring our radio link and would be alerted if it suddenly fell silent we kept it busy with “dummy” traffic as long as we possibly could. Then we destroyed the set, picked up our sten guns and joined the last stragglers leaving the site. I began badly by tripping and falling from the path we were on to one about 40 feet below where I bumped in to another group comprising a British sergeant from the Mountain Battery, three or four Gurkhas and a similar number of Indians, all strangers to each other. But that is another story!

Looking at the message now it is evident that the form was written at 23 Div. and presumably by two people – one giving the order (in block capitals) and the other adding a few words of comfort/encouragement. It is also interesting to note that it was transmitted by Cpl. Monks who, some weeks later, was awarded the DCM for his part in another operation.

Most of all, I see the message as the instrument that gave me 6569 (and counting) years of further life!

Thanks a million.

Maurice Bell