THE PASSWORD WAS MANDALAY by Lt. Col. James W. Bellah, Inf. This is how Phil Cochran and his gang flew the vanguard of General Wingate's forces over the mountains in bright moonlight and put it down deep in the heart of Jap held Burma. This is how some men died, but hordes of men lived to strike a vital master stroke to save China and to help Stilwell and Wingate conquer Northern Burma. Seven months of back-breaking, mind-searing work ended abruptly that last morning. Only hours were left - slow hours until take-off. Jerry Dunn kept talking about death and I kept shutting him up. Herd smile and say: "If you talk about it, it won't happe There were two open spaces on the map: open spaces ringed with Jungle and mountain. Let's call them Fifth Avenue and Bond Street. Nobody had even been on the ground at either place - but there were photographs. The troop-carrying gliders would start down into those places shortly, and the first ones down would pop a red flare if they draw enemy fire - that would warh all the endless succeeding waves to turn back - only it wouldn't - for enemy fire or no enemy fire that red flare wouldn't be popped. Fifth Avenue and Bond Street had to be then and held at all costs because the gliders eouldnlt go back. The two ships, stripped bare to haul the heavy loads, had barely gas enough after release to get themselves back through the hostile night miles. So it was agreed and so it was known by everyone. Nobody would fire the flare. You would hit the ground and go into action and behind you in wave after wave would come the American combat engineers and more British troops and bulldozers and graders and Jeeps and mules to build an airport between dawn and dusk, so that the next night huge troop- carrying power plames could fly in and start landing the army. In the vast glider park there were voices from Brooklyn and Carolina, London sad the North C %ountry, Liverpool, Texas and Nepal. But nobody seemed to have any nationality suddenly. Phil Cochran must have felt that complete loss of all the non-essentials of life. He closed the briefing with "Tonight you're going to find out you've got a soul. Nothing you've ever done or nothing you are ever going to do counts now. Only the next few hours. Good luck". Dunn and I lay down on the ground in the shade of a glider wing while I loaded his Tommy gun clips with tracers. We were first wave. Dunn talked about his wife in London. Every once in a while as he talked the whole thing would surge up inside me like a dental appointment when I was a kid. If it ever breaks, it spatters like blood into the outer reaches of your soul - and you run screeching. You have to stop it and when you do, you feel good inside. Damn good. The time drew on, Dunn slapped me lightly on the shoulder "See you" he said and he walked back to his glider. Chaplain Marlin F. Kerstetter came by and we talked for a minute. It was Sunday night. "As soon as you take off" he said, "I'm going back to hold my service, but I will be in the second wave." All the rank- Slim, Stratemeyer, Baldwin, Old, Wingate, Cochran and Allison were in a huddle. It was coming up on time. Our troops were lined up to go aboard. Doc Tulloch, co-piloting with John Allison looked over his medical equipment and suddenly Cochran called a quick, emergency briefing. |