SUMMARY:
We rejoice to be in the business of exporting the gospel as our Lord Jesus bade us. It is special that we are in touch with a Japanese family we met in Jakarta, and a Burmese missionary, Philip Aung on the Thai Burma border, who was raised near Letpanthonbyn!
“How good is the God we adore, Our faithful, unchangeable Friend...
By JOE MULLINS MC
FIELD Marshal Arthur Wellesley, Duke of Wellington said:
“All the business of war and indeed all the business of life, is to endeavour to fi nd out what you don’t know by what you do. That’s what I call, ‘guessing what was at the other side of the hill’”.
A gushing lady came up to the duke following one of the victories in battle: “What a glorious thing must be a victory, sir”.
The duke responded: “The greatest tragedy in the world, madam except a defeat”.
In other words, violent confrontation is a sad and bad business by any standard, yet it is also true that those involved with a good conscience, learn many lessons about human nature and leadership which stand them in good stead for the rest of their lives. It was certainly so with me.
When I was born at Chevington Grove, near Bury St Edmunds, my father was serving in the fi nance department of the Anglo-Egyptian Sudan, as it was known then, in Khartoum.
Since my mother had already borne my elder sister, Jean, a nanny was engaged to assist this temporary single mum. My father came back to England when I was quite small. I think I was a bit of a handful!
When I was found by the Saviour at an Easter Scripture Union camp at the age of 17, it became clear to me that my conversion to Christ was due more to “Nannie” Martley’s prayers than perhaps any other single factor.
I still have a vivid impression of her gracious face after all these years, though the last time I saw her was on a visit when I was six. I went out to Kenya as a student farmer under John Etherington’s oversight, after leaving school at 18. I enjoyed the open air life in the Kenyan highlands, and was there when WW2 broke out in September 1939.
Returning to Britain, I enlisted in the 5th Special Reserve Battalion, Scots Guards, equipped with skis and windproof clothing for arctic conditions.
The proposed expeditionary force to assist the Finns against Russia was mercifully aborted.
After Royal Military College, Sandhurst, I was commissioned as a 2nd Lieutenant in the Queen’s Royal Regiment, West Surreys, in October 1940. In August 1942, I joined the 1st Battalion in Peshawar, which was then the capital of the N.W. Frontier Province of India, now Pakistan. We moved steadily eastwards, and after jungle training, joined the 33rd Brigade of the 7th Indian Division in the Arakan, now Bangladesh.
After being surrounded by the Japanese invaders, and fi ghting our way out in February/March 1944, we were fl own up to Assam to meet the far larger Japanese force coming through the Naga Hills.
There are incidents in the Arakan campaign which are still indelibly imprinted on my mind ... night patrols ... Christian fellowship in a dugout ... Christmas mail and dinner — roast duck delivered by parachute air drops!
Now an acting Captain, I had taken over command of B Company in the Arakan from Major John Hamilton, who was badly wounded. I was 23.
After the fall of Kohima in May 1944, the 33rd Corps of the 14th Army advanced over the Naga Hills amid monsoon downpours, supplied by parachute airdrops from the brave Dakotas.
I was promoted Acting Major with effect from 28th April 1945.
We advanced successfully down through Burma with motorised columns, light armoured tanks and infantry leading. After taking Prome on the River Irrawaddy, we were switched across the central hills to Pegu, to cut off the retreating Japanese force, who were making for an escape route across the Sittaung River to endeavour to reach Thailand.
We were badly depleted in numbers, largely due to malaria and dysentry.
The monsoon was full on, and sloshing through the paddy fi elds, we were beset by leeches by day, and foot rot and hungry mosquitoes by night.
The 1st Queens were reduced to A & B Companies with 60 men each, instead of 120 each.
We occupied a village called Letpanthonbyn and were ordered to do a night fi ghting patrol to cut the Pegu-Martaban rail line along which the retreating Japs were believed to be marching.
We left only a skeleton force in the village. Balancing on slippery paddy bunds in the dark was no joke.
We did not succeed in fi nding the enemy that night.
Returning very weary next morning, we were confronted with the news that a Jap force was now in occupation of our village.
We received orders from Brigade HQ to retake the village immediately.
After rest and food, our battalion commander, Colonel John Terry, made a battle plan.
A Company on the right, B Company (my company) on the left, were to advance and drive out the enemy who were dug in behind a mud bank reservoir.
The attack was delayed till the afternoon, due to two reasons: the extreme weariness of the troops, and some misdirected artillery fi re, causing casulaties to A Company.
B Company, under my command, was to put in the fi nal attack with covering fi re from A Company on the right.
All went well till we reached the proximity of the reservoir, before which was a clearing interspersed with bushy mango trees and a buddhist temple to the right, opposite A Company (see battle diagram).
I took up a position behind the trunk of a mango tree to direct the attack. Attacking with bayonets fi xed, across the open, we came under heavy fi re from automatic weapons from behind the reservoir bank.
Driven back, we tried to encircle the Jap positions from the left (see diagram), but again came under heavy fi re.
Returning to a frontal position, we tried to reach the reservoir bank, but were repulsed again. “Tiny” Taylor, my second in command, was wounded and also my runner.
Crouching behind the large mango tree, I called up Sgt Everett and two other seasoned men and shared with them my plan to crawl across A Company’s front, round the buddhist temple which afforded cover, to reach the bank of the reservoir on the east side.
I feared an enemy “counter attack” after dark, if we did not dislodge them.
I had no orders from HQ, except to drive the enemy out. So, as dusk fell, with what ammo and grenades we could muster, we set off. (See dotted line.)
In the tropics, the night falls fast and by the time we had crawled round the temple, it was dark.
Using grenades and bursts of sten gunfi re, we leap-frogged from tree to tree, by this time under the bank of the reservoir. Checking our ammo situation, I found we were low.
I sent Sgt Everett back to A Company to replenish. After what seemed an age, he returned. “There’s no one there,” he said. Colonel Terry had ordered a withdrawal right back to our starting point!
It dawned on us that we four alone were confronting an unknown number of fanatical Japanese fi ghters.
Reserving the remainder of our ammo for what might be a last ditch stand, we lay doggo to see what might happen.
Somewhere between 2am and 3am we heard a terrific commotion going on at the northern end of the reservoir.
The Japs were collecting up their ammo and equipment.
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Artist Leslie Cole’s impression — Burma, 14th Army: the battle of the Sittaung Bend. Men of the Queen’s Own (Royal West Kent) Regiment making an armed patrol.
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Joe Mullins and his wife Edith. |
They were obviously preparing to move, but where to?
That was the question. Then as the fi rst streaks of light from the east lightened the sky, we could see men silhouetted, moving from left to right. Would they advance down the bund under which we were crouching? Or...?
To our great relief, and in answer to our prayers, we heard them sloshing out across the paddy fi elds to the east.
We fi red off a few volleys in the direction of their retreating steps.
We waited until the sun was above the horizon, then stealthily advanced to where the Japs had been, fearing the possibility of an ambush.
There was none.
The problem now, was this: as far as our battalion was concerned, we were missing, presumed dead.
As far as they knew, the Japs still occupied this end of the village. We did not want to be shot up by our own men. So, we decided to walk back down the village “street”, singing army songs, like “Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and smile...” This we did, and were greeted with wide-eyed amazement and then hugs.
As I began to relax, I suddenly felt my steel helmet weighing a bit heavily.
I took it off and felt the top of my head. Surprised to fi nd a scratch, maybe half inch to an inch long I looked at the helmet.
The foam rubber and leather crown were ripped to bits.
I pulled them out, revealing two gaping holes and a dent where Jap bullets had penetrated the steel, and had been miraculously defl ected from my head.
As I gazed at the helmet, it seemed that God was saying to me, “Joe, you’ve no right to be alive. Your only right to live is to give yourself back to Me”. We lost 25 men in that battle.
I am ashamed to say that up to this point, like Peter, I had been “following Jesus afar off”. I have looked at that helmet many times since, and my heart has been full of repentance and thanksgiving.
Soon after the battle, I was hospitalised at Pegu with a sort of eczema on my legs as a result of leech bites, and continous soggy boots and socks.
In the muggy monsoon heat, this took eight weeks to clear up, giving me plenty of time for the lesson to sink in and to refl ect on what God wanted me to do with my life.
“Lord, what do you want me to do?” was my prayer.
I was demobbed from the army on the 18th June 1946 at Aldershot, just before my 26th birthday.
How wonderfully God has guided me since then .... Oxford.... theological training... hockey blue... ordination at St Paul’s Cathedral, London... two years in a London parish.... called to India with Scripture Union... met and married Edith Helen Gooding in 1956, the beginning of a wonderful partnership... twelve years pastoring at St John’s, Bangalore.... 1974 emigrated to Australia with six wonderful kids.
It was a fairly traumatic business adjusting to Australia after 20 years in India.
We kept thinking, “when are we going home to Bangalore?”
However we made it, and 26 years on, Australia is home!
I owe more to Edith, a wonderful wife and mother, than I can express.
We rejoice to be in the business of exporting the gospel as our Lord Jesus bade us.
It is special that we are in touch with a Japanese family we met in Jakarta, and a Burmese missionary, Philip Aung on the Thai Burma border, who was raised near Letpanthonbyn!
“How good is the God we adore,
Our faithful, unchangeable Friend.
Whose love is as great as His power,
And knows neither measure or end.
About the Author... No public information is available at the moment.
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Appeared in Issue CETF 12.3 #37 October 2006
"...contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints" -- Jude v3
© Copyright 2006 Christian Witness Ministries, except where noted. All rights reserved
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-Last revised-
Monday, October 09, 2006
