In 1939 at the outbreak of World War Two, my father, William Delaney, more widely known to his friends and associates as Gerry, R.S.M. was stationed with the 2nd Battalion of the K.O.Y.L.I. in Burma in the small garrison town of Maymyo, situated 35 miles north east of Mandalay. The garrison town boasted one British shop, which traded in the small town shopping centre, but you were able to obtain most requirements from the local bazaars. The Barracks (Alexander Barracks) housed the battalion, barrack blocks on stilts for the soldiers, and bungalows for the married families. Facilities within the barracks included a well stocked shop and canteen owned by Wasir Ali. Posting to a battalion lasted six years and with most married families living in close proximity to one another, long time friendships were formed and you tended to live like one big family due to a willingness to help one another in any situation that could occur. This proved to be invaluable during the evacuation period. Many junior ranks had local girlfriends, either Burmese or Anglo/Burmese. Some of the soldiers eventually married these local girls.

In the 1930’s life in colonial Burma was very laid back with the soldiers duties in the main being of an internal security and guard role. For the soldiers, route marching, weapon training, map reading and sports, were the main activities. For the ladies much of their entertainment was to hold tea parties, cocktail parties, bridge and whist drives, and of course bingo. For the officers of the battalion, golf, polo and tennis were very popular. Religious needs were provided by both Roman Catholic and Church of England churches. As Roman Catholics, my cousin and I became the only two white altar boys serving Mass and Benediction on Sundays and Holy Days.

In 1938/39 with war clouds gathering in Europe, many senior N.C.O.’s and Officers were to return to England to assist in the training of new recruits, building up the strength of the regular army in anticipation of war. This depleted the battalion of many of its senior N.C.O.’s. My uncle, then Sergeant Arthur Holmes, later to become Captain Holmes, was one of those who returned to England with my Aunt Mary and cousin Arthur, who was also my best friend.

Following the declaration of war with Germany there were two main concerns of both wives and soldiers. Wives were worried about their loved ones at home in England and from the soldier’s point of view, the safety of their wives and children. There was frustration at being in the backwoods, forgotten and probably never to fire a shot in anger in the defence of their country.

With 1941 came the realisation that Japan was becoming a distinct threat and danger in Asia and that the battalion was likely to fight a war far from home. There was great confidence among the troops that they would defeat the Japanese quite easily. In 1942 Brigadier Orde Wingate was to form his famous ‘Chindits’. With priority of equipment being given to troops at home and in the Middle East, the battalions in Burma were poorly equipped. An entrenching tool is a vital tool of an infantry soldier but not one tool was available to the battalion. With only four, three-inch mortars and no two-inch mortars, the firepower of the battalion was to depend largely on the Lee-Enfield rifle and a few Bren guns and Thompson machine guns. The only transport available for the battalion was six fifteen-hundredweight trucks, mules and carts. There were no wireless sets, no air cover or mines and only one anti-tank weapon. This was how the battalion was equipped to fight the rear guard actions and eventual retreat from Burma.

In December, Japan declared war and we realised we were part of a world war. We frequently saw Japanese aircraft overhead though to the best of my knowledge bombs were only dropped on one occasion. This caused complete panic among the local population who fled into the jungle.

With the success of the Japanese and their rapid advances, tension grew and plans were implemented for the evacuation of the families. Early in February families were warned that a total evacuation was a possibility and that we should be prepared to move at short notice and be allowed to carry with us the minimum amount of clothing and food.

On February 28th the first families received their orders to move. This first group consisted of fifteen ladies and five children. They travelled initially by train to the Chindwin river at Monywa where the journey continued by steamer to Sittuang, with no metal roads into India they travelled by foot carrying what possessions they could. Still travelling by foot they went on forest tracks and over mountain ridges. In better times the view would have been magnificent from the mountain ridges. At the village of Tamu the party crossed into India. The party finally arrived at Calcutta on the 21st of March, a total journey time of just over three weeks. Later this route was to be used by many thousands of refugees fleeing from the Japanese.

Meanwhile, back in Maymyo, families waited anxiously each day for news of the battalion and their menfolk. The Barrack rooms were converted into hospital wards with large red crosses painted on the roof, and on the barrack square, but this did not stop the Japanese bombing the barracks. The Indian population was making a mass exodus with tens of thousands fleeing from all parts of Burma.

The fall of Singapore was to change the situation completely. The battalion, which had suffered for many months with tropical illnesses while preparing for the Japanese invasion, including two hundred cases of malaria whilst in Tuanggyi, was rushed south to Martaban and Moulmein as the Japanese were advancing rapidly through Malaya and Thailand. At Moulmein, the river Salween is very placid between two and three miles wide, a magnificent defence line if you have sufficient troops and equipment to defend it. Unfortunately these were not available. This was to be the start of a nine hundred miles retreat – the longest in the history of the British Army. The situation became chaotic as retreating troops reached the river Sittang, which is a fast flowing river, three-quarters of a mile wide. On the 23rd February 1942, the only bridge crossing this river was destroyed to deny passage across it to the enemy. Unfortunately, a brigade, which included the K.O.Y.L.I., was left stranded on the wrong side. This fast flowing river was a major obstacle even for the strongest of swimmers. Those who managed the crossing were swept almost one mile downstream. My father, who spoke very little of his Burma experience, did relate that as he went into the river he decided that he had no hope of reaching the other side. He came out of the water, smoked a cigarette and started to think of his family back in Maymyo, and decided to try again and was on this occasion successful. He reached the opposite bank in only his shorts and bush hat, under which he had his silver cigarette case, which I still have to this day.

There were many casualties, either dead, wounded or prisoners. Morale was at a low-level, with concern about their families left back in Malmyo and their own predicament with no equipment and no means of communication.

Back in Malmyo wounded soldiers were returning in so called ambulance trains. We were shocked at the arrival of the first train; this being no more than a number of goods wagons. The injured and wounded had received little or no medical attention during their journey from the south which had taken many days. We were able to glean information of the battalion from some of the wounded soldiers.

On the 3rd March my father returned to Maymyo to help organise the reinforcements and reforming of the battalion, the remnants of which were still in the area of Pegu. It was a well known fact that the British were not popular among a section of the Burmese population, it was therefore important that soldiers be armed to protect themselves against possible attack from groups of dissidents. To this end an armoury was broken into at Pegu and weapons which had been captured from Italians in North Africa were issued to each soldier. By this time it was obvious that evacuation of families would be necessary and with this in mind my father instructed me in the use of the Italian rifle and .38 Smith and Weston revolver. He warned me that Burmese dissidents had attacked convoys of refugees and that I should use the weapons if necessary to protect the family.

On the 8th March we heard that Rangoon had fallen to the Japanese. The following afternoon at about four o’clock, sitting on the veranda having afternoon tea, a runner from the Orderly Room passed by our bungalow and informed us that certain families were to report at half past four for immediate evacuation. My mother told him it was ridiculous, that it was impossible to comply with these orders at such short notice. Ten minutes later we were also warned to move at the same time. We were permitted the minimum luggage, a small bag of toiletries into which we placed small tins of condensed milk, biscuits and bread. Everything else, precious possessions collected over seventeen years of marriage was to be left in the house. The last item I picked up before leaving was a book called "How it works and how it is done" printed in India by the Bombay Book Company, and a holy picture given to me by Father Blevaue, both of which I have to this day.

The Delany family comprised, Sarah (Mother), and five children, Gerald aged 13, Doreen, 11, Peter, 8, Kenneth, 6, and Lavinia, ten months.

At approximately five thirty, the convoy left Maymyo arriving in Mandalay in the late evening. We spent the night sleeping on the floor of Fort Dufferin, which had been a Royal Palace. Early the following morning the convoy continued its journey, and we were to hear later that Mandalay and Fort Dufferin had been heavily bombed the morning we left.

Later that morning we were on the plains of Burma, which was very hot at this time of year, the temperature could rise to over 100 degrees Fahrenheit in the shade. There was a great shortage of food and refreshments, making it difficult for mothers with small children. With five children, and Lavinia being the youngest at only ten months old, my mother must have experienced great difficulty to manage this journey.

On the evening of the second day we arrived in Yenan Yaung a total journey of 180 miles. In Yenan Yaung there was an abundance of bungalows that had been abandoned by their owners at short notice, much as we had left our bungalow in Maymyo. We found food and refreshments, which had also been left in haste to flee the Japanese advance. This was our first substantial meal since leaving Malmyo. At the time we did not appreciate that moving so far south we were getting ever closer to the Japanese who were advancing rapidly towards central Burma. The battalion at this time was responsible for the protection of the demolition teams who had to destroy all the oil installations in the area. This was necessary as many local Burmese did not want to see them destroyed..

Early on the 10th March we continued our journey. We had covered approximately twenty-five miles when we arrived at an airstrip. At this time we had no idea where we were going, except we were being evacuated away from the advancing Japanese. On the airstrip were a number of American Flying Fortress B17s. We were quickly ushered into the fuselage of the aircraft; it wasn’t long to take off. The aircraft was crewed by the American Volunteer Group who had volunteered to fight for the Chinese Government, not official airmen of the American Air Force.

At one point, machine guns, which I believe to be .5" Browning’s, located in the side fuselage, opened fire on an attacking Japanese aircraft, and sitting on the floor of the fuselage and to the side of the guns I was showered with empty shell cases. I was able to obtain two of these rounds which I kept for many years. The Japanese aircraft was driven away..

Landing in India we quickly learned that we were close to a town called Asansol, west of Calcutta. Taken from the aircraft we were accommodated in native huts [go downs] My mother was appalled and on behalf of all the families concerned, objected strongly to this treatment. She was informed that the authorities were not aware of who the passengers in the aircraft were. We were quickly moved and billeted with coal miners or managers. Their bungalows were quite magnificent, with swimming pools, tennis courts, servants and mouth-watering food.

Our stay in Asonsol was to last some ten days, before we learned that we would be moving to the north west of India. Food and water were in short supply, occasional meals were provided in station restaurants. If meals were not available there would be a mad dash to secure foodstuffs from either the restaurants or shops at the station.

Arriving in Ralwalpindi in the north west of India, we were transferred to wooden seated coaches for our onward journey to the Murree Hills Military Station. Married quarters, which fortunately were vacant at the time, were located in the village of Clifton, three or four miles from the town centre. They were two storied brick buildings with running water but no electricity, oil lamps being the only means of lighting. Money, clothing, food and household items such as cooking utensils, were still in short supply. Crockery, linen and blankets were issued from an Army Store and Office.

The one concern among all families was the war progressing badly in Burma and the whereabouts and welfare of the Battalion. Many rumours circulated regarding the situation. The most serious one, which I remember well, was that the battalion had been cut off and should be considered lost. We were to learn later that being cut off was a fact and that the message had been sent out by Army HQ in Delhi. It was in fact in the area of Yenanyuang that the battalion was cut off, but fortunately by that time the Chinese troops had arrived to help in the conflict. They counter attacked and pushed the Japanese back and relieved the battalion’s position. Soon after this engagement Brigadier Orde Wingate formed his famous Chindits.

Many weeks passed before we heard from my father. On the 2nd June 1942 we received a telegram saying he was safe and well and had crossed into India almost five weeks after we had departed from Maymyo. This was a tremendous relief for us but sad for those families who had lost husbands and fathers – men that we had known for many years. The Battalion had gone into action against the Japanese over 700 strong but crossed over the Border into India with 85, all ranks, having completed the 900-mile retreat. My father was the oldest soldier and oldest man to survive this action.

The Army Commander, General Bill Slim, standing on a bank at the other side of the road as the battalion moved past was to comment "All of them were gaunt and as ragged as scarecrows yet they all trudged behind their officers, they carried their arms and kept their ranks. They were still a recognisable fighting unit, they may look like scarecrows but they look like soldiers too." In the Rangoon Cathedral 123 names are engraved on a plaque showing those killed in the Burma conflict with no known graves.

It was not long before we started to see some of those survivors coming to Murree on leave. It was quite shocking to see their state of health. One of the first I was to see was Sergeant Ernie Wood who had coached many of us in the art of boxing and had organised many junior competitions for us in Malmyo, he now looked no bigger than a small boy himself; thin, haggard and yellow in colour.

As the RSM, my father was to be one of the last to take his leave. What a home coming and relief after many anxious weeks of waiting. After his leave my father returned to Assam to help in the reforming of the Battalion. We were to spend the next eighteen months or so in the delightful hill station, with an addition to the family, Ann, who was born in Ralwalpindi Hospital on the 7th November 1943. As my mother was taken into hospital some weeks before the birth my father came home on leave to take care of the children and with the hospital some 40 miles away it must have been disturbing being unable to receive visitors. It is only as I write this story that I begin to realise the stress and worry my mother and father must have suffered during the period this short story covers.

Towards the end of January 1944, after almost eight years abroad in both India and Burma, we were to commence our return journey to England. As with most train journeys in India we faced yet again another two days from Ralwalpindi to Bombay, but this time as a complete army family on an official journey rather than as the evacuees we had been on our last long journey. Food and refreshments were served at regular intervals en-route.

Arriving in Bombay we were housed in a hotel called the Namda Manzel, the whole family living in one long large room with overhead fans at each end. This was expected to be a short stay before embarkation on a troopship but unfortunately my brother Kenneth developed pneumonia and was admitted to hospital. Kenneth’s illness was to delay our departure by some six weeks. Whilst on the one hand this was an unfortunate illness we were lucky as the troopship we should have travelled on was torpedoed and sunk in the Indian Ocean. Our hotel was close to the ocean and the beach and this helped to cool the very high temperatures at the time. All our meals were taken in an Army dining room some distance from the hotel. To break the monotony of this army food father would take us to a local Chinese restaurant two or three time a week. It was in Bombay that I developed a liking for bread and jam, particularly apricot jam, finishing off each meal with a slice or two. This habit was to stay with me for many years causing much amusement and comment from the family.

Following Kenneth’s illness we waited embarkation impatiently and eventually we were to embark on the P&O liner ‘Stratheden’ for our four weeks journey home to England. As my father was a WOI we were allocated first class accommodation, which proved to be quite comfortable. Food also proved to be more than acceptable. At the first morning conference with the Colonel commanding troops, all parents were warned to keep children strictly under control and away from areas of the deck which could prove dangerous. Should anyone, adult or child, be unfortunate to fall overboard the ship would be unable to stop to effect a rescue.

Our journey across the Indian Ocean to the Red Sea proved uneventful, although sailing through the Red Sea I suffered my second experience of severe sunburn sitting on deck with bare legs. My thighs became badly burned and it was days before I could allow anything to touch them. There was considerable excitement when passing through the Suez Canal with much comment coming from troops on the banks suggesting that troops on board should disembark and get their legs browned. This was quite amusing, as all the servicemen on board had seen many years of service either in India or Burma.

Travelling through the Mediterranean was uneventful apart from two incidents, the first being an air raid alarm when all anti-aircraft guns were manned. This turned out to be a false alarm as the aircraft proved to be American. The second incident was to occur when passing through the Straights of Gibraltar. It was well known fact that that Spaniards were passing information to the Germans regarding shipping through the Straights. To cover our convoys passage a smoke screen was laid by our escort vessels. The first one I observed was a Corvette that appeared to be thrown about like a cork. Much of the hull could be seen as it was lifted out of the water. Onwards we travelled in convoy until we arrived in Liverpool to face the hardship of rationing, blackouts and many other wartime restrictions, a completely different lifestyle to the one we had become accustomed to in the Far East. Our eight years away from England had been a fantastic experience, the memory of which would last a lifetime. We had been incredibly lucky and fortunate to escape capture by the Japanese and apart from pneumonia, removal of tonsils in Maymyo and severe sunburn, we experienced no serious illness or injury during our stay.

"Cede Nullis"

Charles G. Delany