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"IF YOU WANT ME COME AND GET ME"
Cpt. Leonard Arthur Pocock 200309
Our father, Leonard
Pocock was a member of the 2nd Battalion Royal Berkshire Regiment from
1942 to 1946. The following account has been written by his daughter Julie
with valuable contributions from his sons Richard and Robert. Along with
family recollections and assorted official records we've also drawn on
information gathered from the following publications:
'China Dragons' by John Hill Published by Blandford
'The History of The Royal Berkshire Regiment 1920 - 1947' by Brigadier
Gordon Blight Published by Staples Press.
"IF YOU WANT ME, COME AND GET ME"
My father, Leonard Arthur Pocock (Len) was a red headed Berkshire man,
born in 1916 in Burghclere, a village to the south of Newbury, and one
in a long line of Berkshire Pococks. Although he didn't speak with a local
accent, I remember him slipping into a 'Berkshire Burr' when reading stories
to my brother Robert.
Between the ages of eleven to eighteen my father attended St. Bartholomew's
School in Newbury, and we have photos of him in the school rugby team
for the years 1932 to 1935.
As well as being a keen sportsman my father was also an excellent artist,
being particularly talented in creating very detailed pencil drawings.
Between 1927 and 1932 the artist Stanley Spencer was painting the WWI
Memorial Chapel at Burghclere and my brother Richard recounts hearing
that our grandmother somehow persuaded Stanley to give her teenage son
some informal tuition. Robert remembers hearing from our father that Stanley
Spencer criticised his drawing as being too realistic, and not creative
enough to be 'art'.
A couple of years later and despite Stanley's criticism, my father gained
a place at The Slade School of Art in London but his father refused to
allow him to attend, insisting he 'get a proper job' instead. My father
followed his own father and other family members to work in the Post Office
and began his training at Newbury Post Office.
After a few years at Newbury my father transferred to Bedford Post Office.
He continued to play rugby and was selected to play for the Bedford Rugby
Club, one of the more famous rugby union league clubs. Shortly after moving
to Bedford he met his future wife, Kathleen (Katie), who also worked at
Bedford Post Office. There is a family story that early in their relationship
my father invited her to a dance, (possibly their first date) but he wasn't
an accomplished dancer and kept treading on her feet, spoiling her shoes.
He later presented her with a small ornamental ceramic court shoe that
for many years was used as a cake decoration - perhaps on an anniversary
cake, but in my memory the shoe seemed to appear quite frequently (my
mother made lots of cakes!).
When my father received his call-up papers he was courting my mother and
I believe their relationship was very romantic and intense. It may be
because of this, that according to my mother, he refused to comply with
the instructions, saying 'If they want me they'll have to come and get
me' which of course they did! I can quite believe something like this
occurred - it wouldn't have been out of character. I believe that 'as
a punishment' he was assigned to the Pioneer Corps which my mother wasn't
at all happy about it, in fact she was disappointed he was in the Army
at all as she would have much preferred him to be in the Royal Navy, or
at least the RAF.
My father's army records certainly support the fact that he was serving
in the ranks between May 1940 and August 1941, although a photo from that
period suggests he did become a corporal. After attending the 163rd OCTU
Pwllheli, Wales he became a 2nd Lieutenant with the Royal Berkshire Regiment
and in August 1941 joined the 7th Battalion based in Maidenhead.
Shortly after receiving his commission he married his Katie and the wedding
photos show him looking very smart and handsome in his brand new officer's
uniform. The three day honeymoon was spent at The Mitre Hotel on the banks
of the River Thames at Hampton Court. My mother was very proud to be an
officer's wife and really loved it when he was saluted by other soldiers
as they walked out together with him in uniform. She did so like a man
in uniform!
Some months after his wedding, my father was attached to Assembly Centre
No 16 ITC Slade Camp, Cowley and later moved to Leiston, Suffolk for tropical
climate training. In spring 1942, having been transferred to the 2nd Battalion
Royal Berkshire Regiment, he was posted to India and arrived in Bombay
(most likely to Colaba Barracks) in May.
His army records suggest he was on active service in India and Burma with
the 2nd Battalion from May 1942 to March 1945. He always gave the impression
that his time in India was one of the best periods of his life, and I'm
sure he would have loved both the ceremonial and training activities,
as well as the internal security duties that the regiment carried out.
He learnt to drive during this period and, despite continuing to drive
into his early 80s, claimed never to have taken a civilian driving test.
Always a keen sportsman he mentioned learning to ride a horse and play
polo whilst in India, and as a child I remember him riding during a family
holiday. Although I was never aware of him playing football a photograph
of him with a regimental football team suggests he had some involvement
with the team. He spoke about spending time at Ootacamund, which he referred
to as Ooty, a hill station in the Western Ghats, a line of hills running
along southern India's west coast. He also mentioned Poona, which I believe
was also a hill station, located south east of Bombay. Robert recalls
hearing about an 'episode' that occurred while my father was in Ooty.
Apparently our mother discovered he had taken a woman out in a rowing
boat, on Ooty Lake. Our mother was very upset and jealous as many of their
courting days had been spent in boats on the River Ouse at Bedford. She
felt extremely put out as she was enduring war-time austerity in Britain
while he was abroad 'larking about in boats' with another woman!
Sometime after arriving in Bombay (and possibly participating in the guard
of honour and parade mounted at Government House for HRH The Duke of Gloucester),
records suggest that my father travelled, with his battalion, to various
places throughout southern India.
In August 1942 my father's battalion, 2nd Royal Berkshires, moved from
Bombay to Poonamallee near to Madras on India's south eastern coast, as
it was feared the area may be invaded by the Japanese 'The History
of The Royal Berkshire Regiment 1920 - 1947' Brigadier Blight describes
how they lived in 'basha huts, constructed of bamboo poles, interlaced
with palm fronds and reeds'. Apparently in the tropical heat and
humidity these huts provided more comfortable accommodation than the army
issue tents.
In January 1943 my father was with his regiment, at St Thomas Mount, in
the Tamil region, undergoing training in 'open warfare', under
the command of Lt. Colonel Atkins. The aim of the training was to practice,
(a) Advance to contact (b) Attack against modern enemy in hill country
and special admin problems involved (c) Air co-operation and direct air
support. During this period my father is recorded attending a course
at D&M (Driver and Mechanical) School.
Training in 'open warfare' continued at St Thomas Mount into March 1943,
the objective being: 'To practice in all types of country from open
downland to thick scrub, jungle and hills up to 2300 ft.' Officers
also attended courses and my father is recorded as having participated
in a 'Battle School' course.
In May 1943 the battalion moved further south to Bangalore where they
practiced jungle warfare and later in the year continued this training
in the teak forests, situated along the Malabar coast, which were considered
to be comparable to the Burmese jungle.
At the start of 1944 my father's battalion moved northwards to Bidada,
in the Gujurat region, where 'Combined Ops Dryshod Training and Open
Warfare' were carried out. My father is listed as Lieut. L A Pocock
(PI Comd). From the middle of May he also attended a three week Rifle
Pl Course at Tactical Training Centre - Battle School.
By June the regiment had moved to to Janori near to Deolali in the Wester
Ghats, north east of Bombay. Here 'Jungle training in all its forms
and Dryshod training' continued for some weeks. Whilst training at
Janori the battalion was alerted to a possible autumn move into Burma,
so jungle training continued despite it being the height of the monsoon
season. John Hill in his book 'China Dragons' recalls 'This training,
in torrential rain for ten days, tested us severely' and Brigadier
Blight states 'It was ‘hard going’ and that it was carried
out in the monsoon season added to their difficulties. It was recorded
that on the first night 8½ inches of rain fell, and the average
daily rate was 1¾ inches. Temporary casualties due to
'foot rot' were high'. In addition to the torrential rain the temperatures
were very high averaging over 90 degrees F creating an unbearable humidity
of 80%.
In October 1944 the battalion left for Assam, assembling on the Kohima
Imphal road ready for the move into Burma.
In November the battalion was given the task of building a twelve mile
stretch of road through the jungle to the Chindwin River, beyond which
lay the plains of Burma. The surrounding jungle of teak and bamboo spread
right down to the existing bullock-cart track, which was steep and narrow
and littered with the wreckage of war - skeletons of men and animals,
vehicles and equipment. The work consisted of levelling the steep gradients
where the track crossed a 3,000 foot high ridge and widening it sufficiently
to enable the passage of lorries and tank transporters. According to Brigadier
Blight, no-one was exempt from the work, from officers to cooks, they
all 'navvied' until the road, named Broadway (the Royal Berkshire's section
was christened Berkshire Lane) was completed.
In early December the battalion travelled along Broadway to reach the
Chindwin River which they crossed on improvised rafts before travelling
over the border into Burma. After the Chindwin crossing the battalion
faced a 350 mile march to Shwebo, with a further 70 miles to their eventual
target, Mandalay. In addition to carrying 60 pounds (almost 4½
stone) of equipment on their backs, Blight recounts how 'They would
need to maintain an average of ten miles a day through jungle clad mountains
and across rivers and innumerable chaungs* which made it the worst fighting
country in the world'.
*'Chaungs' were 'streams', but at up to 30 yards across, were more like
rivers and posed a significant obstacle to the advancing army.
On Boxing Day, at Kanbalu the battalion encountered the Japanese for the
first time; the enemy patrols, uttering intimidating cries, attempted
to attack the battalion's defended area. Brigadier Blight recounts how
'enemy shells fell, with some bursting in the jungle canopy, sending
lethal shards of wood and bamboo raining down. These shards could main
or kill and casualties quickly mounted'. Roads and tracks in the
area were heavily mined but the advance to Shwebo continued steadily despite
persistent opposition from the Japanese, who were entrenched and well-hidden
in the villages and along the route, and supported by mortars and machine
guns. Robert remembers hearing a story about when stalking the Japanese,
they would sometimes have to lie silently in a hollow in the jungle, barely
a few yards from a Japanese entrenchment, for up to a day without making
a move or a sound.
Early in January 1945 Shwebo was captured and the next objective was Mandalay
which involved crossing a formidable obstacle, the Irrawaddy River. Potential
crossing points were heavily defended by Japanese troops and the battalion
was ordered to clear a crossing point located near the village of Kabwet,
and for the remainder of January heavy fighting, including air attacks,
raged in the area. My father told Robert a story of wading through swampy
water and coming out with leeches clinging to his legs and only the lighted
end of a cigarette could persuade them to loosen their hold. It was not
until the beginning of February that the battle for the Irrawaddy crossing
was over and after more than a month of intensive fighting, the battalion
spent a rest period in the Shwebo area.
It was during this period, in the middle of January, my father was granted
four weeks sick leave. I'm not sure why sick leave was granted, although
a statement written by John Hill, commanding officer of B Company, states
that in March my father 'returned from hospital to re-join the battalion
having been wounded earlier.' As far as I'm aware my father was only
wounded once, and that occurred later during the attack on Mandalay, I
have no recollection of there ever being mention of an earlier wounding;
however I do remember my mother saying he had contracted malaria in Burma;
could this account for the sick leave - who knows? Wading through swampy
water in previous weeks must have been a risk for this and my father did
suffer attacks of shingles in the 1950s and 60s, which is said to be a
residual feature for those having suffered malaria.
My father's army records show that following a medical in mid-February,
at British Military Hospital Wellington, he was sent to a Reinforcement
Section before re-joining the battalion. BMH Wellington was a hospital
located in India about 8 miles from Ootacamund and some hundreds of miles
from the battalion's location in Burma, so I assume he was flown there,
but it seems a long way to be sent for four week's sick leave.
February 19th was a momentous day as the battalion crossed the Irrawaddy
and the advance to Mandalay was underway. On route at Shwegondaing, where
the Japanese were well dug in, one of the heaviest artillery bombardments
in Burma took place.
The Regiment reached Mandalay in early March and my father was attached
to B Company as 2nd in command to John Hill. He appears to have been 'promoted
in the field' to the rank of Captain, although according to his service
record this was not made official. My mother used to say that although
he received promotion the 'paperwork didn't catch up with him' perhaps
this was the case here?
During the Regiment's involvement in the battle for Mandalay my father
received a gunshot wound to the leg. Many years ago when I was a young
child, he told me the story of the incident. As I remember it he'd been
a passenger in a jeep driving through a village in Burma when he was shot
(My brother Robert always believed it happened in Rangoon but we now know
it to be the outskirts of Mandalay). He'd been sitting in the front seat
of the jeep beside the driver (another soldier), with one leg out straight
and the other bent up at the knee. The bullet passed through the side
of the jeep, from right to left, making a glancing blow through the underside
of his right thigh, but then entering his left thigh hitting right into
the bone. I believed his driver was shot and killed. Our father told Robert
that after being shot, his left leg simply 'flopped over to the left'
with no real pain, but as the bullet exited his thigh it threw out much
of the thigh bone causing a huge gash more than a foot in length.
In 2016 I read John Hill's book 'China Dragons' which includes a more
detailed account of the incident. It was interesting to discoverer that
my recollections are broadly accurate except that thankfully, the driver
was not killed, but only slightly wounded, despite the jeep being fired
on by 'light machine-guns, rifles, grenades and every weapon bar the
75 mm' and when they got back to the company area the jeep was 'pepper-potted
with holes'. They clearly had a very lucky escape and I believe my
father owed his life to the skill of his driver who 'raced through
the attack at 60mph'. I was amazed to discover, when Vic Sharman
(Royal Berks web-master) sent me a copy, that this incident was featured
as a 'True War Story' in a 1978 issue of Victor comic. My father was still
alive when the comic was published but I assume was totally unaware of
it. Robert feels my parents would have had a good laugh about it, with
our father rather fancying himself as that rugged, racy soldier depicted
in the comic story.
For some reason I've always assumed my father was shot with a rifle by
a lone Japanese sniper, but having read more about the incident, as recorded
by both John Hill and Brigadier Blight, I wondered if his wounds were
perhaps the result of machine gun fire. However Richard remembers being
told he was shot with a 'dum dum' (exploding) bullet, which were banned
by the Geneva Convention, but as the Japanese hadn't signed up to the
agreement they continued to use these bullets in their weapons. This would
actually make more sense as my father's left leg was severely damaged,
his thigh muscles torn to pieces and his femur shattered; an injury perhaps
more consistent with a 'dum dum' bullet than a normal rifle shot or machine
gun fire.
The War Office Casualty List 1712 (Officers) dated 22nd March 1945 includes
the following entry: Royal Berkshire Regiment. Pocock W/Lt L.A. 200309.
Dangerously ill 18.3.45. Date of casualty 14.3.45.
The 14th March 1945 marked the day my father's war was over but also marked
the beginning of his own personal battle.
After being wounded my father believed he lay in a shed or hut-like structure
for three days mainly unconscious but remembered someone going through
his pockets and his watch being stolen. He also remembered 'things' crawling
over him.
Sergeant Bertram King, helped my father when his jeep returned to the
company area and recounts the incident in a 2008 interview (a transcript
is available on the Royal Berks web-site), 'Len Pocock, that was the
bloke who got shot up, we took him out of his jeep and he's been shot
to pieces, his mess tins he was sitting on in the jeep, everything was
cut up, and we put him on a stretcher, on one of those jeep type stretchers
and he went off………he stopped a load from a Japanese
machine gun. Didn't think he would make it to be quite honest'. It's
clear from Bertram's account that my father was taken by Jeep, possibly
to an advanced dressing station or field hospital for emergency treatment
and not left in a 'shed' as he believed.
Another memory my father recounted was that after he was wounded he was
in hospital (Burma? India?) in plaster from the chest, down his left leg
to his foot and half way down his right leg. He had maggots under the
plaster and could feel them crawling about over his skin and the sensation
drove him mad.
My father was in hospital, possibly in Burma initially, then in India
(18 BGH and 134 IBGH) from March to October 1945 when he was repatriated
to England. He remained in hospital until about June 1946 and relinquished
his commission at Aldershot in October of that year.
My brother Richard and I have always understood he was repatriated by
hospital ship and I believe I was told that a stuffed toy panda I had
as a child, was made by him during the voyage, however the Army records
suggest otherwise. The records show he embarked Bombay for the UK on 11th
October 1945 and was admitted to hospital in Berkshire four days later,
so it seems he must have been flown home - something we didn't know.
During his time in UK hospitals my father was allocated to 17 Infantry
Holding Battalion (ex. overseas, medical) and classified as category D,
a classification for service personnel who were deemed to be totally unfit
for any kind of military service. Holding Battalions 'held' troops who,
for a variety of reasons, would otherwise be temporarily 'homeless', for
example the medically unfit, those awaiting orders or reposting to other
units.
It's likely I first met my father in the spring of 1946 when I was about
3 years old. At the time he was hospitalised in St Albans, an easy train
journey from our home in Bedford. I remember him semi-reclined in a hospital
bed with covers over what I later realised was a 'leg cage'. This frightened
me as I didn't know what the strange shape was hidden under the covers.
Over his bed was a trapeze bar which he used to lift himself up, but for
my visit it held an assortment of plasticine models, possibly animals,
that he'd made for my amusement. I think my father was understandably
more interested in talking to my mother than to me and I seem to recall
the plasticine figures soon transferred to the 'trapeze' belonging to
the soldier in the adjacent bed, who entertained me for much of the visit
and it's him I remember most.
My father's time in Burma had a lasting psychological effect on him and
these days he would probably be diagnosed with a severe form of Post-Traumatic
Stress Disorder (PTSD). For most of his life, in times of stress, he had
recurring nightmares believing he was back fighting in the jungle. He
spoke occasionally about the Japanese, hidden in the jungle calling out
in English, taunting the British soldiers (known as 'jitter parties').
He remembered not being able to rescue dead or wounded colleagues, as
the enemy were hiding in the surrounding jungle waiting to shoot anyone
who tried. He spoke of his distress at hearing the sounds of wounded or
dying men and not being able to help them and the smell of rotting bodies.
In 'China Dragons' John Hill relates having to reinforce to his men that
'In an attack….if a man was hit, whoever he was, all had to
understand that they should not be rescued or looked after until the attack
was over…it was paramount to maintain the momentum of forward at
all costs if we were to kill the enemy and seize their ground'.
About 1954, after a visit to the cinema, I remember my father saying that
the way films depicted people being shot, wasn't anything like it was
in real life. Some years later he also told Robert that in films, people
got shot and instantly fell over dead, which was pure fiction –
in the reality of warfare that he had witnessed, soldiers more often died
after many minutes or even hours of pain and agony.
My father left hospital in 1946, probably about June, and returned to
live in Bedford. Initially he spent much of his time in an upstairs bedroom
and I remember him sitting in a chair wearing a dressing gown patterned
with green dragons. I remember a day late in 1946 when, at the age of
four, I'd been sent off to Kindergarten on my own (that would not be allowed
these days but not unusual back then). Finding the building closed I took
myself back home - it was only a street away. I remember banging on the
front door and eventually shouting through the letter box but no-one answered.
I knew my father was upstairs and I thought he was deliberately refusing
to let me in. I felt scared and rejected and worried that I'd done something
to upset him and ended up siting on the doorstep crying until my mother,
having 'popped to the shop', returned to let me in. it wasn't until years
later that I wondered whether he'd been unable to manage the stairs unaided
and just couldn't get down to answer the door.
In the early months at home my father's leg was obviously quite stiff
and he always sat with it stretched out. His shattered femur resulted
in a shortened left leg and for the rest of his life he walked with a
noticeable limp and for many years used a walking stick. Initially he
was issued with a built-up shoe which he hated and eventually refused
to wear, preferring to limp instead. Before the war my father had been
a keen and competent sportsman, playing rugby and cricket for his school
and later rugby for Bedford Rugby Club. Now his injury prevented him taking
part in any of the sports he enjoyed - even walking was a challenge and
in the months after leaving hospital his physical ability was very limited.
Even after his fitness improved he was never able to play rugby again,
although he remained a keen follower of the game, attending matches at
Twickenham. He did however take up cricket for a while but only as a batsman
(he required a runner). but was unable to field and eventually had to
be content with following cricket on the radio.
My father eventually returned to work in, I think, 1949 when he joined
the Ordnance Service as a cartographer, based in Surrey. For some while
he lived away in digs, returning to Bedford at weekends. I'm afraid I
rather liked it when he was away as I was allowed to play in the street
with my friends; when he was home I had to play in the garden.
In 1950 we moved to Surrey and between the years 1955 and 1961, and maybe
beyond, my father was a member of the Army Emergency Reserve of Officers
(I believe this became the TA) and in 1955 was at last, officially awarded
the rank of Captain. He regularly attended 'camp' which I believe was
an annual event involving two weeks, spent under canvas. Robert remembers
that he took an old green army ‘grip’ bag with brown leather
handles, which would bulge with all his clothes and equipment. Going to
‘camp’ seemed to be the high spot of his year and probably
awakened memories of the army camaraderie which he seemed to like. Before
going off, he would show Robert the maps of where he was going, Rob thinks
it was the Lake District. Rob remembers poring over the OS maps and being
amazed at the mass of brown lines showing the steep hills.
In 1956 we moved again, this time to Hertfordshire as my father had accepted
employment with the De Havilland aircraft company in Hatfield, which subsequently
became Hawker Siddeley Dynamics in the early 1960s. From there he retained
a lifelong interest in aircraft, and would take Robert many miles to aircraft
shows in Hertfordshire and Bedfordshire on the back of his blue ‘Lambretta’
scooter. When in 1966 the government of the day scrapped the pioneering
‘TSR2’ fighter aircraft (which at the time was the most advanced
fighter jet in the world) he was bitterly disappointed, but he did have
the compensation of sitting with Robert watching the maiden flight of
Concord on TV in March 1969.
Back at De Havilland's he worked with early computers when they were the
size of wardrobes. He was also involved in Britain's Blue Streak rocket
programme and was present at the launch at Woomera, in South Australia.
In August 1965 the family moved to Hampshire where my father became director
of a company (which we knew as The Data Centre, based in Aldershot), which
was set up by one of his colleagues, Jim Hayes, from Hawker Siddeley.
The company had a contract with the Royal Aircraft Establishment in Farnborough,
which involved analysing the data tapes used in the early versions of
the ‘black box’ flight recorder, still broadly the same as
those used in aircraft today.
After his retirement my parents lived in Devon for a while, then Lincolnshire
where my father died at the age of 86 on 25th February 2003. At his funeral
our mother placed his old Royal Berkshire beret and folded brown gloves
on the lid of his coffin. At the end of the service the pre 1900 Royal
Berkshire regimental march, 'To Be a Farmer's Boy' was played.
Unfortunately I had a very unhappy and difficult relationship with my
father but researching and writing this account has enabled me to understand
more about the man I knew as my dad, and the experiences that made him
the person he was.
Lord Louis Mountbatten, Far East Commander addressing the troops in Burma
said, 'I understand you believe you're the forgotten army. That's
not true. The truth is nobody's ever heard of you.' We hope by contributing
our father's story the men of the 'Forgotten Army' will not be forgotten
and their contributions in the Far East during WW2 will be recognised
by future generations.
Cpt. Leonard Arthur Pocock
Cpt. Leonard Arthur Pocock
Cpt. Leonard Arthur Pocock's
Service Records