After the Battle of Sidi Rezegh in November 1941 the 7th Hussars were left with only eight tanks. They were then withdrawn from the Desert to be re-equipped with the American light tank, the “Honey”, mounting as its main armament the 37mm gun.

In January 1942 Regiment sailed for the Far East, disembarking at Rangoon on February 21st, by which time the British Anny had already started what subsequently turned out to be a 1,000-mile withdrawal to India.

North of Rangoon but just south of Prome the only feasible withdrawal route passed between hills and the river Irrawaddy. In most of this area, the jungle came up to the road on both sides. Here the Japanese had by-passed part of the British force and had established roadblocks of captured vehicles and felled trees covered by anti-tank guns, mortars and small arms.

The 7th Hussars, some infantry, and 414 Battery (Essex Yeomanry) RHA were cut off. The Honeys were used to clear these roadblocks.

On March 29th at 1815 hours ‘B’ Squadron led the breakout. It was rapidly getting dark, but there was a good moon. By this time Lieutenant Patteson’s sole surviving tank was put under command of Lieutenant Geoffrey Palmer who had himself only two tanks left.

One roadblock was cleared or bypassed and then Lieutenant Patteson took the lead. He edged around the next block of three overturned vehicles, reported that he was through, and then nothing more was heard of him. By now the moon was setting and in the pitch dark the other two tanks fought their way through all the remaining blocks, unaware of the fate of the leading tank.

Just after sending his message, Lieutenant Patteson’s tank was hit by fire from an anti-tank gun. The driver lost control and the tank plunged down a steep bank. Patteson dismounted and went off to find a way to get his tank back on the road. Having discovered a possible route he was making his way back to his ditched tank when he found himself surrounded by Japanese soldiers. The other three members of the crew got clear, found a boat on the river, but it sank in midstream drowning one of them. The remaining two managed to make their way back to the ‘B’ Echelon three days later.

Meanwhile, Patteson was tied to a tree and brutally beaten but he refused to give away any information until an English-speaking Japanese officer, having slashed Patteson’s chin with a sword, asked him about the British artillery. Patteson replied that there were none. The Japanese officer knew that this was a lie.

With a sadistic sense of humour, rather than shooting Patteson on the spot, he had him taken to one of the vehicles comprising the roadblock and tied him to it. The officer knew that although tracked vehicles might be able to skirt around the block, it would have to be cleared by the trapped British force if they hoped to get a large number of wheeled vehicles through. He told Patteson that he would much enjoy watching him being shelled by his own side and, if this did not kill him, he would undoubtedly be crushed by his own tanks when they charged the block to clear it.

Patteson did not have long to wait before 414 Battery opened fire. In his own words:

“The first shell burst on the road itself, yards only from the over-turned ambulance, to which I was tied; the second burst high up in the palm tree branches, sending down a shower of splinters onto the road. Understandably the Japanese had gone to ground.” Patterson was sitting bolt upright with his hands secured behind his back and his ankles roped together. He continues “Two further shells screamed overhead; instinctively, I hurled my full weight towards the ground. Whether it was the incompetence of the soldiers who tied me to the running board, or by the miracle of a shell splinter, I shall never know, but in that brief second, the ropes behind me gave way, and I crashed headlong into the road. The ropes securing my hands behind my back were still intact, and I sensed that those around my ankles were still tightly fastened. I thought rapidly. The tanks would be advancing on the roadblock at any moment; frequently our tanks followed up so closely behind exploding shells that they were able to crush enemy infantry crouching in their weapon pits. I had to sever my connection with the ambulance as quickly as possible.”

He kicked with his lashed-together legs until one shoe came off and with it a coil of rope. Slowly he forced off the other shoe and with it the remaining rope. He then lay motionless while the shelling continued.

Soon he heard approaching a stampeding herd of water buffalo. Rolling over, he managed to get among the herd, moving away from the roadblock with them. Suddenly the shelling stopped, as did the herd, who, to his consternation, started to move back towards the roadblock.

Abandoning his friends the buffaloes, he dived into the jungle only to find himself, unseen between two Japanese soldiers talking to each other as they searched for him. Realising that he would soon be discovered if he stayed where he was, he ran between them howling like a banshee. Astonished, they did not even open fire.

Patteson takes up the story:

“Barefoot and with my hands still bound, I had to run several miles back to RHQ before meeting up, at about 0400 hours, with one of our drivers; ‘Good Gawd he shouted, ‘ if it ain’t Lt Kildare Patteson.’ I asked him very quietly if he could undo the ropes securing my arms behind my back. He did so; it was then that I was escorted to be interviewed by the Colonel. I thought it correct to inform the colonel that, some years earlier, I had become Captain of Cross Country at Lancing College!”

He replied what must be the understatement of the War:

“Kildare, it looks as though you need a drink.”

Note. Although Captain Patteson did not write all of this article, he has checked and found it to be a true account.

Related topics

  1. A short history of The 7th Hussars
  2. Burma 1942 timeline
  3. M3 Stuart ‘Honey’ tank