Jim and the other men worked on until three, and then in a haze of exhaustion crossed the Chindwin for the last time. Having wrecked and sunk the boats and outboard motors so the Japs couldn’t use them, they loaded up the few mules and horses with the heaviest of the stores and equipment while an advance party went to reconnoitre the steep and barely discernible path that wound its way along the face of the cliff to the top.

Jim festooned himself with carbines and extra ammunition and then staggered beneath the weight of his overladen pack. He was at last getting some insight as to why the mules were always so bloody-minded – and could perfectly understand it.

He glanced across the river to see 40 column disappear into the sand dunes with the rest of the mules, and then began the awkward climb up the rough and winding cliff path, which he suspected was home to poisonous snakes and biting insects. The heavy pack threatened to drag him backwards as he negotiated tree roots and used vines as thick as his arm to cling to and steady himself, not daring to look down into the deep ravine where jagged jaws of rock waited to catch the unwary, and the river thundered over vast boulders, sweeping all before it.

He gained the top, and as the others scrambled up beside him to wait for the mules, horses and handlers to arrive, they took in the view – and it did nothing to raise their spirits.

The trees were over a hundred feet high, the dark, dense jungle stretching for miles beneath the setting sun and gathering storm clouds. Rocky, jungle-clad ridges soared above the canopy, which meant there would be plunging valleys, swift rivers and Burmese villages hidden within them, as well as the Japanese, who had been sighted twenty miles to the north, and whose gunfire could already be heard.

Jim steadied his breathing, eased his tight leg muscles and adjusted the straps of his backpack, which he’d padded with his spare shirts to stop them rubbing his sunburnt shoulders. He hadn’t slept for thirty-six hours and could have dozed off right there and then, but he tipped the brim of his hat low over his eyes to cut out the glare of the sinking sun and exchanged a knowing glance with Ernie as the Gurkhas drew their machetes and began to hack a way through the jungle. They were in for a very tough few hours.

A flash of lightning and a deep crash of thunder were swiftly followed by a deluge of warm rain which battered down on them, drenching them in an instant and making their loads even heavier. But at the commanding officer’s hand signal they fell into line and purposefully began to make their way once more into the familiar realms of the lethal unknown.

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