THE FEVER OF DEFEAT

From Burma this week TIME'S Correspondent Jack Belden sent the following report on the campaign that came to an unhappy end with the fall of Mandalay:

This is probably my last message. I'm staying with General Stilwell and a small command post directing the rear-guard action on approaches to India and northernmost Burma.

The Japanese are driving with incredible speed, swinging wide of both our east and west flanks and somehow we have to get the troops out of this closing-in trap.

The Jap column which seized Lashio is coming up the Burma Road to China, with the possibility that it may swing in toward Bhamo in an attempt to sever all our communications with China. Another column is about to seize Mandalay. A third force has already taken Monywa and the Junction of the Irrawaddy and Chindwin Rivers, threatening to outflank us.

The roads are crowded with thousands of refugees who are under constant aerial strafing, suffering from food and water shortage and wearied from the pace that on the Shan States front carried the Japanese forward 350 miles in two weeks, or 25 miles a day.

It is this terrific Jap pressure, plus food and water scarcity and the noncompletion of roads to India, that makes the task so difficult. The railway line leading to a dead end at Myitkyina has been repeatedly smashed by Jap bombers, interrupted by Burmese saboteurs loosening rails, opening switches and shooting at wrecking crews in the dark. Small, tough jeeps may be able to negotiate the oxcart tracks and are being commandeered to carry out the wounded, but the majority must walk. Whether they escape depends upon whether Alexander and Stilwell can block off roads to stem the Jap advance, and whether the rains come to bog down Jap motor columns.

A Plane for Refugees. In the midst of writing these words, I heard a sudden roar, looked overhead at a transport plane circling in low. I heard cries: "Hurray, Hurray" from American enlisted men as the plane circled and landed. "Don't that plane look good. Go kiss it." Someone sang God Bless America.

The list is now being made out of those who will evacuate. At any rate I won't go, and "Uncle Joe" Stilwell will stay to the last to direct his troops. I must write fast now and will set down jumbled impressions of the last days of Burma.

Bottleneck. Last night I stood on the Ava bridge beside two Scottish lads, Royal Bombay Sappers and Miners, who were ready to plunge a stick that would set off 2,000 lb. of explosives and wreck the second largest bridge in the Far East across the Irrawaddy River. British 25-pounders, manned by Indians, were hurling shells in the direction of Mandalay, which has been burning since April 4th and is overrun with dacoits and traitors who are shooting at the Chinese garrison in the darkness through the completely flattened ruins of a city of onetime 120,000 population, where now only stand the red-washed, almost encircled walls of the palace of Burma's kings. The last rear guard was hurrying across after holding up the main Jap force with just a handful of men.

This ends a definite stage of the war as now all the rice, salt, oil and tin are in Japanese hands, and what remains of Burma will make it difficult to support large armies and the hordes of helpless refugees streaming northward. The plane is going now.

Two Men & Some Cheese. I continue to write this from Stilwell's Headquarters, hoping that someone will pick it up to take to India before I leave. Everyone but Headquarters' doctor and myself has gone. We will set the houses afire with all diaries, documents and anything of value as soon as it gets dark, and leave early tomorrow morning to try to catch Stilwell. We shall travel through what to us is uncharted area. I cannot reveal even a general route for fear the enemy might get on the trail. We poured gasoline on a scout car and a couple of sedans and shot tommy-gun bullets into them only a few short hours ago. We still have a couple of cars to destroy but are waiting to see if someone trying to get out cannot use them. I have just come from the tank corps with a thousand rounds of machine-gun ammunition and we hope this is enough to last out our small unit on what promises to be a long journey. The doctor and I had a box of food and killed a sheep which we put in a burlap bag, for emergency, but someone has stolen these already and we will have to manage to get along on a can of cheese we discovered in the litter of belongings in this abandoned Headquarters. Our supply of boiled water is very low and unless we soon find Stilwell I am afraid we must drink whatever we can find in the dirty ditches along the way. Everything is happening so quickly that I cannot write a coordinated story.

Resume of failure. Briefly, here are the last days of Burma. For the last two months the result of the Burma campaign was almost a foregone conclusion.

In the first place we lacked sound political theory; we had no war aim in Burma. The people, advocating independence, were unfriendly from the beginning and when the Japanese began to succeed, this ripened into open hostility.

The open hostility of the people caused us to fight blindly. Without air support, we scarcely ever knew exactly where the enemy was, where he would appear, or in how much strength. Intelligence broke down almost completely. The Japs were led by Burmese people through country paths, jungle thickets, into the rear of our positions time & again, causing numerous road blocks, clogging our supply lines, disrupting communications and causing an adverse psychological effect on the minds of men and officers.

As the Japanese advanced the lawlessness behind the lines increased. Railroads were wrecked, cars were fired upon in the dark, and even in daylight several Chinese were murdered on the road. Gangs of dacoits, as many as four or five hundred, armed with cruel, butcher-knife-like dahs and with torches in their hands often went through towns completing the work of destruction begun by Japanese incendiary bombs. The Japanese, and the small but active group of Burmese that were their allies, literally and devastatingly burned their way through Burma.

Here are some of the other factors of defeat:

> Our lines of communications were uncertain. The railroads often did not run because the railway personnel ran away or was intimidated by Burmese. Our radio communication between echelons was poor.

> Water supply was insufficient in the hot wastelands north of Prome and Toungoo and, with the Japs constantly cutting our rear, we often were cut off from watering holes.

> We never received any reinforcements. The British troops had to stay in line and slug it out for three months. Not only were the ranks woefully depleted, but the men were tired beyond telling.

> Finally, the Japanese fought total war, backed by political theory and strengthened by powerful propaganda. They made this total war feasible by cornering economic life in conquered areas, utilizing labor power and seizing raw materials to supply continuing war from war itself. It is a type of war thoroughly understood by the Russians and Germans, half adopted by the Chinese, and little understood by Britain and America.

Again I must close and try to rush this off. All about me there is nothing but utmost misery. Roads are lined with belongings abandoned by refugees, 20,000 of whom crossed the Irrawaddy only yesterday, hoping to get to India, but their chance is very slight. Evacuation to Bhamo via the river route is practically useless with the Jap capture of Lashio.

Must go. Goodby.

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