My father died at Rangoon just a few days after my Convocation at No. 68, Pagoda Road, Rangoon where we were then staying. With the start of the Japanese war, I sent my mother and sisters by steamer to Madras and onwards to Nazareth, to be away from the war-like situation then prevailing at Rangoon. My brother, Victor had joined the Govt. of Burma Printing Press at Rangoon and was sent away on training in Litho-printing to the Govt. of India Press at Calcutta in 1940.
I continued to stay in the same house till the forced evacuation of Rangoon on the 21^st February 1942.            

Japanese zero bombers wreak destruction in Rangoon

Rangoon had gone through terrible aerial bombardments on the 23^rd and 25^th December 1941 when 40 Japanese Zero bombers came in formation and wrecked havoc by machine gunning the public on the main roads of Rangoon and along the long straight air raid trenches dug by the Government in the open parks and maidans. On those two days alone, more than one lakh people died, with the bodies lying uncleared for days together after that, with all the people running  in panic away from Rangoon. After these two days of bombing, Japanese planes could come over Rangoon at any time they felt like it with the people running into air raid shelters whenever the sirens went off, as there was no resistance whatsoever either from the Royal Air Force or from the American Air Force, who were then engaged in the Philippines, Thailand and Singapore sectors. 

Escape route plans with Uncle John

During this period, I used to visit my maternal Uncle John who was working as an Assistant Surgeon in the Government Hospital at Rangoon and Aunty John, almost every day as they were in a terrible state of fear. Uncle was not prepared to ask for premature retirement as he  was wanting to continue till his actual date of super-annuation which was just about 3 months away. Every day we would sit and plan our route of escape in case of sudden evacuation taking place with the Japanese attacking us from the South. . So many alternate routes were planned, one via Chittagong, the other through Mandalay in the north and third from Myitkyina which was very much in the North to avail of any plane to India from there. .Just about that time, Aunty John  received a telegram from Colombo stating that one of her close relations was seriously ill and they wanted her there immediately. She decided to leave for Colombo, leaving Uncle John all alone. It was so sad to see Uncle so depressed. 

Martial law and evacuation of Rangoon

On the 21^st February 1942, I left my house as usual in the morning in one of the Govt. jeeps to my work at the airport. At about 5 pm, the jeep usually comes to take me back home but on that particular day, no vehicle came for me. After waiting for an hour or so, I walked about a mile to the main Rangoon – Mandalay road and I was taken aback to see crowds of people, cars, trucks, bullock carts etc running north away from Rangoon. When I enquired from them what had happened, they said that evacuation orders had already been issued by Govt. to evacuate Rangoon within 24 hours and that martial law had already been declared as the Japanese were going to attack Rangoon from the north instead of from the Riverside on the south where  the Army was expecting them. I did not know what to do as I had left the house that morning with only the clothes that I was wearing, leaving all cash and belongings behind in the house.

 Just at that moment, I was surprised to see two of my cousins, Dr. Arthur Joseph and Mr. Rajamoney Joseph driving their two-door Morris saloon with all their belongings packed in the rear seat. I stopped them and suggested that I would like to go back to the house and take some of my things. They just laughed at my suggestion and said that it would just be crazy to go back to Rangoon where everything was being set on fire by criminals and lunatics who had been let loose from the prisons and the mental asylum.  The Army had started firing at the trouble-makers and it was extremely risky to go back. I had therefore no other alternative but to get into the rear seat of their car after re-packing some of their baggage.

Classified as “essential”

It took 3 days to reach Mandalay, which is about 360 miles north of Rangoon. There, we were categorized as ‘essentials’ and ‘non-essentials’ by the Govt. officials.  I, being an Engineer, was classified as essential while both my cousins were declared non-essentials as one was a Municipal Corporation Doctor and the other an Office Superintendent in the Secretariat. While they were given air passage back to India, I was given posting orders to Tawgin, a place right on top of a mountain between Ye U and Kalewa to construct about 10 miles stretch of road connecting Burma to India, as an escape route for the troops and for the refugees who wanted to go to India.

As I was then small-made and could pass off as a student, my cousins insisted that I should pretend to be a student and get into the plane with them and go off to India, otherwise there was no chance at all for me to reach India alive. I firmly stood my ground and refused to comply with their request saying that I, as a loyal Govt. servant, would not like to desert the Govt. of Burma at that stage. My cousins, after reaching India, had told my mother at Nazareth that I was such a fool and adamant as to refuse to escape when an opportunity opened to me. and now there was hardly a possibility of my reaching India safely. From that day onwards, my mother started mourning for me and placed every thing in God’s hands for my safe return.

Shocking news of Uncle John

While I was at Mandalay, I heard that Uncle John had also reached Mandalay using a Medical van but had failed to get a place in the  plane that left for India.  Being of a quiet nature, he was not able to push his way through, although priority had been given to women, children and senior citizens. The only other escape route was through Myitkyina right in the north, from where they were arranging a few flights for the refugees who had gathered there. I was told that Uncle had found his way there, to avail of one of the flights. I came to know later that he was not successful in getting a flight from Myitkyina to India and then he had attempted to walk on the most difficult escape route known as the Hukong Valley Death route. His body was found by some of our friends, about two days march from Myitkyina. This came as a terrible shock to me as, in spite of all the planning that we did at Rangoon, to find a safe route to reach India, we had failed.

Indo-Burma road construction: dangerous posting at Tawgin

I was posted on the construction of Indo-Burma Road of a total length of 240 miles, half of which fell on the southern side of the turbulent Chindwin river, known as Ye U – Kalewa Road and the other on the northern side of the river, leading to the Indo-Burma border, known as Kalewa-Tamu Road. All the senior Engineers got themselves posted on the Kalewa-Tamu road portion as it would be easier for them to escape to India in case of any emergency as Chindwin river during the monsoon season is just not crossable. I was posted at Tawgin, a mountainous place about 40 miles from Ye-U and was entrusted with the construction of ten miles of road, five miles on either side of Tawgin. My staff and I were supplied with military rations by the British Army once a week, with bagful of rice, potatoes, onion, dal etc and even a full goat once in two weeks or so for feeding the entire contingent of my engineering establishment.

“The Japanese are coming!”

In about two months time, the entire road from Ye-U to Tamu was almost completed by the engineers when suddenly one day we found the British soldiers  rushing towards Kalewa with all their trucks, armoured carriers, guns etc and they informed us that the Japanese were just behind them within about 20 miles or so.

Japanese suicide squad

 The suicide squad of the Japanese Army was fully in action, stealthily walking through the jungle, taking up positions on trees on the escape route and killing a large number of troops before they themselves were shot down. This had created a panic among the British Army and they were just running for their dear lives. I also managed to get into one of the Army trucks and reached the southern bank of the Chindwin river, opposite Kalewa, safely.

Dumped – all modes of transport except a bamboo raft

The Army had been directed to dump all the Army trucks, armoured vehicles etc into the river so that these did not fall into the hands of the Japanese. It was an awful sight to see such a lot of brand new Army equipment being dumped into the river.

The only mode of transport to reach Kalewa on the north bank of Chindwin river from the southern bank was by a bamboo raft, run by the local Burmese. I got on to one and landed about 3 miles down stream of Kalewa. Anyway, I was safe and so were 3 of my  Christian staff  who worked with me on the road construction and we trekked north to Kalewa.

At Kalewa and all along the road beyond, we found a lot of belongings strewn on the road, like radios, sewing machines, bicycles etc discarded by the refugees who probably had thought that they could carry these to India with them. But to their dismay, they found that this was not possible because of the extremely difficult mountainous terrain that they had to trek on.

A Raleigh bicycle and hitch-hiking on mountainous terrain

I was able to pick up a brand new green Raleigh bicycle and cycled a little distance but whenever  a military truck passed by, I used to get into it along with the bicycle as I liked it very much. But I had to discard this too, as some of the people in the truck, apart from giving me a lift,  refused to accommodate the bicycle.

By hitch-hiking this way, I reached Tamu, about 120 miles away from Kalewa, after about 5 days. There the Government officials met us and gave all Government servants 4 months salary and kept us on surplus leave from the Government of Burma, with instructions to report at Calcutta to one Col Ewing for posting orders under the Government of India. They then arranged bus transport to Palel and then on to Imphal where refugee camps were located. 

I and some of the Christian engineering staff  reached Imphal after two days and found that there were two refugee camps, one called the Anglo-Indian camp for well to do  people and the other, the Indian camp for the rest. It so happened that just the day before we reached Imphal, the Japanese had bombed the Anglo-Indian camp and wiped it out completely.

Refugee camp wiped out except for one little baby

When we reached there, we found the Anglo-Indian camp almost non-existent. We heard the news there that the family of one Mr. Adhistam David comprising 32 members, whom I knew very well at Rangoon, was completely wiped out except for one little baby. This family had left Rangoon in December 1941 via an easier but longer route to Chittagong by bus, bullock cart etc and had reached the Anglo-Indian camp at Imphal after about 5 months travel. It was so tragic.

From the refugee camps at Imphal, we were supposed to be transported by bus to Dimapur which was the nearest railhead. When we asked the Commandant of the camp when we would be transported to Dimapur, he said that our turn would only be after 3 weeks or so as there  was a large number of earlier arrivals. As I was not prepared to wait for another 3 weeks at Imphal, we asked him what was the other alternative route that we can take to reach Calcutta at the earliest. He said the only other route  was through a foot path cutting across a range of  Manipur and Naga hills and that he had been directing the crowd along this path to relieve the congestion in the camps. We had no other option but to choose this route and we requested him to drop us at the foot-hills so that we can start on our onward journey. He very sweetly obliged us and dropped us at the foot-hills and wished us the best of luck.

 Lakhs of people on a hazardous 21-day forest trek

This route, though much better than the Hukong Valley Death Route, where my uncle Dr. M. D. John died, was still very tough as every day we had to climb the steep hills and come down to the valley to take the next climb. This being the only available alternative, most of the refugees availed of this route with their whole family and with what little belongings that they could carry.

There were lakhs and lakhs of people on this route. Cholera was raging and people were dying like flies, as clean and fresh water was not available on the route. We just slept along the path after a hard and tired day’s trek and in the morning when we got up, we saw a number of people lying dead all along the path. I have seen whole families dead except for some small babies and children who kept on crying over their bodies. Some of the people even went to the extent of robbing the jewels from the dead bodies. From the way people were dying, I was told that at least 4 lakhs people would have died on the trek.

The hand of God

We could not understand why, when we were all drinking the same water and subsisting on the same boiled rice and salt purchased from the Naga tribals at exhorbitant rates,  so many people were dying all around us while we were able to escape death and  other serious illnesses thereafter. Surely, God’s mercy and grace protected us through thick and thin and I fully believe that He was always present with us throughout the trek. I humbly thank and praise God for this, His divine protection.

10 miles a day on boiled rice and salt

Because of the difficult mountainous terrain and the weak condition that we were in, we could hardly walk about 10 miles a day. My Christian friends and I faced the whole situation with courage and faith in God and were singing all the way through, songs like ‘One more river and that's the river of Jordan, one more river and that's the river to cross’ and ‘Count your many blessings, name them one by one’. We just went on walking without knowing when  we were going to reach our destination.

On one of the nights when I was sleeping on the footpath, a big mountain leech had got on to my groin and had sucked a lot of blood. When I suddenly got up from sleep, the leech fell out like a big ball of blood, with blood just pouring out from my groin. The bleeding would not stop almost the whole day in spite of all my efforts  to stop it with salt, cigarette ash which some of my co-travelers gave me and bandage torn from my vest etc. I had to tell my friends to go ahead and that I would join them later.
I could only catch up  with them the next day.

Food, glorious food!

After 21 days of difficult trekking, we reached Silchar in Assam where the Congress had established a very nice refugee camp. We were fed nicely with puris, milk etc and I felt fairly refreshed.

After 2 days, we were put into Railway wagons and sent to Sealdah station, the station other than Howrah  station in Calcutta. There, we were met by congressmen  who put us up in a Marwari Dharamsala. I stayed there for almost a week enjoying the delicious food they served us, to gain some strength after the long trek.

As I had been wearing the same set of clothes for weeks together, I got myself a full set of new clothes and all other necessities to look decent enough  to meet my brother Victor who was then at Calcutta working in the Government Press.

“Is he alive? Is it really him?”

There had been no postal communication between Burma and India for over 4 months. With my cousins from Burma creating doubts in every one’s mind as to whether I was alive, my mother and my relatives had given me up for dead.

I went over to my brother’s office after about a week and sent a slip to him with my name on it  with the security man at the gate. I saw my brother coming running from the office, not believing whether it was really me or some one was playing a trick on him. He hugged me and said that our mother had been weeping for months together thinking that I was not alive. I was at that time planning to give a surprise to my mother by suddenly presenting myself before her at Nazareth, but my brother prevailed on me not to do as it might give her a terrible shock.  He urged me instead to send a telegram giving her the good news. We sent her a telegram to Nazareth stating that I was still alive and that I would soon be reaching Nazareth to meet her and all my sisters.

After staying with my brother a couple of days, I went over to Col. Ewing’s office and reported my safe arrival at Calcutta. He gave me a 3^rd class rail ticket to Nazareth and said that he would get in touch with me at the Nazareth address shortly.

Warm welcome from my family at Nazereth

I went over to Nazareth and was very warmly received at the railway station by my mother and sisters. My mother was insistent that I should not go back any more and that I should take up a job at Nazareth itself. She had even contacted one Mr. Devavaram, a  District Engineer who had promised her that I could get a job of Supervisor on a pay of Rs. 70/- per month. But within 3 days of my arrival at Nazareth, I received a telegram from Col. Ewing asking me to report immediately at Calcutta for posting orders.

My mother was very much against this move but I convinced her that by taking over the job with the Government of India, my future would be very much enhanced and that I would be able to support our family much better.


Thought for the day

Be strong and courageous.
Do not be afraid or terrified because of them,
for the LORD your God goes with you;
he will never leave you nor forsake you.
- Deuteronomy 31:6

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