‘Considering the fact they’re a bunch of pansies, Quakers and conscientious objectors, they’re actually bloody marvels and have certainly won my respect,’ muttered Jim who’d always been firmly against such men. ‘I wouldn’t be brave enough to do that without at least a bazooka to fire back with, let alone go in unarmed as they do.’

‘Och, Jim, ye dinnae ken what ye’d do if the occasion called for it,’ rumbled Jumbo. ‘Although that particular lot were lucky to miss the bullets with so many flying about.’ He shook his great head and then spat into the mud. ‘The Japs have no respect for the sign of the Red Cross.’

Jim nodded, for he knew that many of those young men had been killed just as the armed fighting men were being blown up or shot to pieces. He picked up his gun, cleaned the firing mechanism and barrel of muck and reloaded. The short respite was over. It was time to return to the battle.

It had taken thirty days to push the Japanese back twenty miles from Toungoo. Jim was very aware of the number of casualties they’d suffered amongst the engineers who’d had to advance with the leading infantry to clear the road, but the tank squadrons could also count heavy losses, with every squadron depleted through direct hits, tracks being blown off by a hidden mine, and crews who were often machine-gunned down by the Japs as they tried to escape their burning tank through the turret or front hatch.

To the delight and huge relief of the battle-weary men of the 14th Army, the monsoon had washed away any last chance of the Japs being able to plan or execute a counter-offensive, and the enemy on the Mawchi Road broke into full retreat, heading for the border with Thailand. However, the fighting was not yet over, for they were soon informed of HQ’s plans to send in the mixed brigades to get ahead of them by using air and sea transport.

The Japs’ only hope of escape would be to cut through the Allies’ line and head east to Thailand, but first they’d have to come out of the Yomas on one of the very few passable tracks. Then they’d have to cross several miles of open paddy fields which were now under deep water, forcing them to use the narrow, unstable paths formed by the raised bunds above the flood. Finally, they would have to cross the Sittang River which was now in full, torrential flow, about as wide as the Thames by London Bridge and almost impossible to swim across. At every point along the route the Allies would be waiting for them.