India & Malaya 1945

HMT Capetown Castle

We sailed north to join the convoy out of Greenock and headed west into the Atlantic and thence south and east to Gibraltar, the indirect routing intended to avoid possible enemy submarine attacks. From Gibraltar we detached from the convoy and sped through the Mediterranean to Port Said, one of the first ships to do so since the threat of enemy air attack had been largely contained. Then through the Suez Canal to Port Suez and a one day debarkation for a desert route march which enabled us all later in life to boast that we too had served in Egypt though not exactly with Montgomery. We then sailed off through the Red and Arabian Seas and soon the pungent aroma of Bombay was detectable. Bill Templeton

On their first live firing demonstration they had of course mapped out and registered the guns on their exact targets and these areas were roped off. The audience was a Ghurkha battalion. As the demonstration got underway, between salvos, it became clear that the Ghurkhas were moving ever closer to the target areas. This was somewhat disturbing as the Berkshires did not want any harm to come to anyone. Eventually to much cheering (and to the astonishment of the Berkshires) one Ghurkha was wounded. It turned out that the entire Battalion was running a sweepstake and the winner was to be the first man wounded. The wounded Ghurkha was so pleased with his fate that he bought a drink for the entire Battalion from his winnings. John Puxley

The end of the war in Europe was marked by celebrations in New Delhi in mid-May 1945. 396 Battery had the honour of firing the Victory Salute, while 395 Battery formed part of the procession. We stayed at Dehra Dun for some months, but made one excursion to Delhi to take part in the Victory in Europe (VE Day) parade, along the roads from the Viceroy’s Palace, around Connaught Circus and beyond. Paul Matthews

In June 1945 the Regiment moved to Poona from where, after a short stay, it went to Bangalore and then on to the port of Madras. Training continued in preparation for the invasion of Malaya (codenamed Operation Zipper).

Our next move was to Poona where we spent a short time in the local barracks. I was again on the train party which was a disappointment, as those travelling on the roads saw much more of the country, including Agra, and the Taj Mahal. Then on south to Bangalore for a further few weeks and finally across India again by train to Madras where we settled into a vast camp, as the forces for Operation Zipper, the proposed invasion of Malaya and recovery of South East Asia were assembling. Paul Matthews

Aboard landing craft approaching the beach

Two or three days before we were due to board ship for Malaya, someone came into the bar in the Connemara Hotel and said they had heard a rumour that Japan was surrendering after the atom bombs. The large and very ancient radiogram in the room was turned on, and one of the regulars who understood it, tuned in to the BBC Overseas broadcast, and we awaited the next news. Eventually we heard the usual introduction, and the newsreader said 'The Japanese Gov ' there was a loud BANG from inside the radio, a great cloud of smoke burst out of the back, and drifted slowly to the ceiling and that was the only news we got that night.

Towards the end of August, we embarked on our ship for Malaya, and were briefed on the plans for the invasion. It was confirmed that the Japanese had agreed to surrender, but there was some doubt as to whether the local commanders might be fanatical military types who would not honour the Emperor’s surrender and would fight on. The powers that be therefore decided that the quickest and safest way of getting troops into Malaya was to carry on with the original plan for a landing at Morib Beach just north of Port Dickson. Once troops were ashore, the position of the Japs would be known, and the build-up of forces and support equipment could be diverted to Singapore, Port Swettenham, and Penang. Paul Matthews

On 29 August 1945, we sailed from Madras in a huge convoy with a major naval escort and all realised that the waiting was over. We had spent hours before enclosing the engines of our vehicles in a waterproof plastic goop, which would enable our vehicles to head off the landing craft into six feet of water and then drive safely up onto the beach, assuming we were not interfered with by the enemy. Those of us with jeeps were equipped with vertical extensions on our carburettor air intakes so that we would make it to shore standing on the driver’s seat, hand-throttle on, head hopefully above water and steering with one foot through the spokes. Despite the huge naval presence of light and heavy warships, no massive bombardment preceded our landing. Lucky for us since once on shore we realised that the peninsular was lined with huge naval guns, which would have offered a formidable resistance to any beach landing attempt. Bill Templeton

Disaster on the beach

The Regiment landed at Morib beaches, 30 miles north of Port Dickson, on 9th September and, in fact, opposition was non-existent as the Japanese had withdrawn inland. Although some difficulties were experienced with sand bars and muddy beaches the Regiment was soon ashore and harbouring at Morib airfield. Official records show that 42,651 personnel, 3,968 vehicles and 11,224 tons of stores were landed at Morib that day.

The landing at Morib was a disaster. Unknown to us, there was a sandbank about half a mile off shore, so at high tide the landing craft could sail right up to the beach and deliver the first wave of troops, but from about half tide, the shallow draft boats still grounded out at sea, and soldiers and equipment landed had to pass through water five or six feet deep, before reaching dry land. We arrived at 'H' hour plus four or five, at the full

ebb tide, and paddled from the boat in six inches of water, with half a mile to go. Some of our vehicles were 'drowned', before the landing of trucks and guns was stopped, while the men struggled ashore as best they could. As the water got deeper my batman, Mitchell came close to me, and another soldier, Gunner Berg who was a stocky but very short man, also sidled up, and as the water lapped around their necks, I picked them up by the collar, one in each hand and we struggled on. I was just tall enough, and by means of a strange hoppity step each time a wave came past, we reached the shore. There were some casualties, but none in my unit.

Our guns and vehicles were diverted to Port Dickson, and Port Swettenham, so after landing, we walked a few hundred yards into a rubber estate, and settled down to wait. Had the landing been opposed, none of us would have survived. Years later we learned that a Rubber Planter from the Morib district had been called to the planning committee in Bombay, and had given them full warning of this problem. Unhappily he had been so drunk at the time of his interview, they had discarded all his words as nonsense. The Japs had decided that an invasion on this beach was impossible and had neglected to fortify it. Paul Matthews

Landing craft on Morib beach

The 396 Battery Newsletter of 7 October 1945 (written by Richard Lewis and John Puxley) contained the following report:

Although on D Day we duly waded ashore up to our middles in true commando fashion there were no Japanese to shoot at us, the only spectators of the inspiring scene were a few Malayan children who quickly made themselves sick by eating all the sweets out of the compo rations.

After the landing the Battery was split up. C Troop re-embarked and steamed up the Straits of Malacca to Penang. Owing to a certain shortage of maps and a certain surplus of rum they went the wrong way and passed straight through the unswept minefields instead of keeping to the cleared channels. The black marks which the people kept on seeing bobbing about in the sea were put down at the time to being empty rum bottles thrown overboard from the leading ship. When the truth was discovered even some of the toughest C Troop veterans made enquiries about the Temperance Society.

That wasn’t the end of their excitements. While the remainder of the Troop were anchored in the bay a recce party of the Troop Commander and OPA [Observation Post Assistant] went ashore to look for billets. They expected to find a deserted town but on rounding the first corner they walked straight into an armed Japanese patrol. Gripping their stens and trying to look completely unconcerned they strode on and the Japanese patrol marched smartly past without so much as a glance. Things went from bad to worse for before long they found their way into a Japanese barracks where they were surrounded by about 40 armed Japanese. After hearing so many stories of Japanese tricks they felt a little lonely to say the least. However all went well and before very long C Troop marched in and the Japanese marched out. The Troop had a tremendous welcome from the people. After having been ill-treated for 2½ years it wasn’t surprising they were pleased to see us.

After C Troop had departed on their expedition, D Troop moved on from Kuala Lumpur. They drove North 120 miles to a place called Tapah and as they were among the first British Troops up the road for 2 ½ years, the route was lined by cheering people waving flags and throwing bananas, pineapples and coconuts into the trucks. The Troop was detailed to attend the surrender ceremony, and fire salvoes of blank, as 4500 Japanese including two Generals handed over their swords to the CRA and the CO.

Gun Park at Batu Gajah

Life at that time was most rewarding, the population was grateful for the help we could give them and pleased to see the country was recovering some semblance of good order.Others however were less well disposed, and these were the Chinese Communist inspired 'Malayan Peoples Anti Japanese Army' (MPAJA) who had been armed by air during the Japanese occupation, and were supposed to be fighting to free Malaya from the Japs. It was now their intention to prevent the British return, and to take over the country themselves. In the early days they caused little trouble in the larger towns, but did attain considerable influence in the smaller and isolated villages around the coast or in deep jungle, and one of our duties was to go out on 'flag flying' circuits, visiting these outposts finding if there were any problems and generally trying to reassure the populace that all was now well.

On one occasion I led my troop to the Lumut area on the west coast of Perak, and while we were there, out of radio contact with base, we were surrounded by and shouted at by a very large and hostile crowd. The fact that it was mostly a communist inspired 'rent a crowd' was not apparent for some time, until we eventually returned to the local school building which I had selected as a suitable place for us to stay that night. On arrival I received a very curt note from the MPAJA Boss, demanding that I report immediately to another school building nearby. I replied that I was about to enjoy my evening meal, but I would be delighted to meet as many local people as possible at 7 o’clock in the evening. I doubled the guards on our bivouac area, arranged for a group of my men to accompany me and sit in a coffee shop near to the school, to be ready in case they were needed, and Tony Morton, my second in command, a 2nd Lieutenant aged 19, and I went into the school where we found a Chinese man in uniform at the head of the table, and perhaps a hundred others crowding round the room. The Chinese started by asking why I had visited the area without asking his permission first, and said that had I done so, there would have been no unpleasantness that afternoon at Pantai Remus, he then continued with a tirade against just about everything on earth. This was translated to me by a Tamil who introduced himself as the School teacher, and assured me discreetly that what we would hear was not the general opinion of the majority of those present, but the basic dogma of the MPAJA.

I replied that Malaya was now a free country, the British were back, and everyone could move freely anywhere they wished, without having to request the permission of any man, however important. As to unpleasantness I said, we had noticed none, only a large crowd of people who had come to see us, and we were delighted to see them. I also mentioned that we were leaving next day, and was there anything they needed urgently so that I could report to Ipoh and get them help.

On hearing I was leaving next day the Chinese changed his tune completely, and said that in that case there was no need to continue the meeting, and I could leave at once. I then rose and addressed the crowd, ignoring the Chinese, and had a friendly discussion on their needs which included a desperate shortage of food and rice, and medicines. Unfortunately I had not been told that five lorry loads of rice had been sent down a few days earlier, but as usual these had been spirited away by the MPAJA. a regular ploy of communist troublemakers everywhere.

On returning to Ipoh I put in a full report, and it was decided to send a larger unit of soldiers to live permanently in that village, and regain control. On arrival they, perhaps tactlessly, took over the MPAJA headquarters as there own accommodation, and tore down the MPAJA flag. They were threatened by my friend who brandished a grenade at them, he was shot dead by a young soldier who panicked. There was a bit of a fuss made at the time but it all blew over, and Lumut returned to normal. Paul Matthews

B Troop, 395 Bty at Batu Gajah

Later in the year Major General GN Wood at SEAC wrote to the Regiment as follows: “Since landing in Malaya, 145 Field Regiment has played a most important role. It has occupied the industrial storm centre of Malaya and, by its discipline, good conduct, courtesy and cooperation with the civil authorities and the best elements of the population, has done incalculable good in restoring confidence and enhancing British prestige”. Perhaps a good example of the required approach is given by this episode:

The communists in Ipoh decided on a trial of strength, and called for a general strike on a Saturday, stating that the whole population was to close down all activity and report under threat of violence, to the padang (central playing fields of the town) that afternoon to be spoken to by the MPAJA bosses. They then built a tall platform at one end of the padang, and equipped it with loud speakers.

On our side, some genius marked out a football pitch at the other end of the padang, erected goal posts, and arranged a match between the two most skilled football teams available. This was in fact between the Berks Yeo, and one of the infantry battalions, and all off duty soldiers were encouraged to attend, as indeed they wished to, and to shout themselves hoarse in support of their chosen team.

At the appointed time, the population of Ipoh gathered round the football pitch and enjoyed a great afternoons entertainment, while the communists at the other end shouted and bellowed at a few of their own supporters, and the backs of those they wished to impress. I was Duty Officer that afternoon and in the Regt. Command Post, when a very nervous and breathless Chinese man came in and reported there were six thousand Chinese armed with spears and pick helves marching on Ipoh from Batu Gajah. The Colonel turned to me and said, 'Matthews, take six men, get out there and stop them.' 'Yes sir' said I, and off we went. As we drove away a young soldier (about my age) asked where we were going, so I told them the story. 'Bloody hell sir' said he, 'How are we going to do that’. 'I don’t know,' I replied, 'but we'll think of something when we get there'. On such confidence and naivity was the British Empire built! Needless to say, the story was a hoax and we saw no one on the roads, or in the fields, as anyone who had not gone to Ipoh was lying very low at home in fear of retribution from the communists. I reported back to base by radio, and returned.

While all this was going on, fatigue parties had been organised, and knowing that all the communist personnel would be at the padang, they broke into the known rice stores set up by the MPAJA, and at least fifteen tons in five lorries were recovered. These lorries were then parked just out of sight on the roads leading out from the padang, and as the crowds dispersed they found British soldiers dishing out free rice into any container available. Chinese hats and head scarfs were used, while the Malays and Indian lifted up their skirts, sarongs and saris, to carry home as much as possible. Paul Matthews

Victory Parade in Ipoh 29 September 1945