The Road Into China - May 1942
Contributed by Leo Raes, Sgt W/Op R.A.F.

From the Winter 1991 Edition of Dekho!

LEO RAES of 9, Tankerton Court, Whitstable, has sent these two interesting articles about RAFCHIN, and the early part of the war.  It may find a few former survivors of these events, is so please contact Wally Turner – 0335-42012

The Japanese were fast approaching Lashio, our base in Northern Burma. We were a motley crew of RAF. personnel — clerical, transport, wireless and R.D.F. operators — and it was time to move on!

Our convoy approached the China bonier at Wanting: Negotiations with the Kuomintang Govern­ment had produced permission for some 350 trades personnel — with their equipment to enter China. The remainder were forced to proceed to India on foot, joining the sad throng of evacuees. Their route lay along jungle trails, across mountainous country, rife with malarial mosquitoes, poisonous leeches and every tropical disease. Several colleagues took this march and many died then or shortly following.

The Burma Road — China’s survival artery for American Lend-Lease supplies to her hard-premed armies - was a miracle of construction, carved by coolie hand-labour from solid rock. Hundreds of ill-clothed women labourers toiled continuously with hand tools and tiny baskets to create and repair a highway which snaked and wound across the Himalayan mountains. In high spots we could see our route ahead, zig-zagging a dozen times on the tremendous slopes. Driving in convoy, and negotiating the hordes of refugees - both civilian and army - and, we were advised, infiltrating Japanese -called for a high degree of skill and luck. Many of the hairpin bends required a series of reversings with bottomless drops awaiting errors. Then steep descents to gorges and river crossings by precarious plank bridges or the occasional tiny ferry.

On to Paoshan, which had been cruelly mauled by the all-victorious Japanese fliers. Their inten­tion was twofold — to halt the exodus and to prevent Chinese troops approaching the border. We proceeded past the shambles to our next halt -- Kunming, capital of Yunnan province. Here we met the American Volunteer Group at their base and headquarters. Although America had been precipit­ated into the struggle, little of their war effort had yet been directed to the Far East.

These men were mercenaries - on hire to the Kuomintang and paid a bonus for downing Jap aircraft - and had proved highly successful. They flew Tomahawk fighters emblazoned with shark heads. Although inferior to the enemy Mitsubishi ‘Zero’ fighters, the Americans devised aerial tactics to make their presence felt. The men were brash and noisy — but extremely hospitable. We also met Wendell Wilkey, a Presidential candidate.

The convoy moved on, pausing, for brief ‘brew-up’ stops. Occasionally we were able to barter a shirt or old blanket for eggs or a scraggy chicken — which, added to our minimal rations, produced a banquet. We rid ourselves of mad dust in streams, and passing an inviting pond, halted and stripped. We got out rapidly as we had disturbed dozens of evil looking swimming snakes.

Our journey took us through the habitat of the Giant Pandas - but none were in evidence. Eventually we reached Chengtu, Szechuan Province, a large university town some 200 miles north of the wartime capital, Chuiigkiiig~ Predominantly agricultural — rice paddies and vegetables in every tiny area. We noticed coolies balancing heavy shoulder yokes, loaded with evil smelling buckets.

Very little vehicle traffic - petrol non-existent - our own lorries ran on wood alcohol. Abundant wheelbarrows and rickshaws.. It was amusing to see enormous black and white pigs, trussed and being pushed in wheelbarrows. We were told later, that walking these to market would have taken toil of weight, and thus, value.

We located our new billets - the usual bamboo lath and mud huts surrounding a pressed earth square, and after cleaning up, we naturally decided to inspect the city. We created enormous interest. Hordes of curious Chinese surrounded and followed us, hawking and spitting and screaming at high pitch at the sight of so many foreign devils.

The majority of the buildings seemed to be timber — built on two storeys, and from one, our ears were assailed by a most hideous cacophony. Deciding to investigate, we ascended stairs, closely follow­ed by a good proportion of the local population. An audience was squatting in a room and being entertained by musicians extracting agony from strange looking instruments. As we mingled, there was a tremendous cracking noise and the floor — with audience and orchestra — descended in a cloud of choking dust. Several appeared to be badly bruised and injured. We helped as much as we could - piling victims into barrows and rickshaws, Quite probably, those unfortunates without fare money were later deposited on the road.

Life with ‘RAFCHIN’ was obviously going to be different...

Contributed by Leo Raes, Sgt W/Op. R.A.F.

Are their any more Rafchin survivors out there? Contact Wally Turner —033542012.