WILLIAM SLIM

On 20 May [General William] Slim handed over all his troops to 4 Corps and the old Burma Corps ceased to exist. He said goodbye to his close friends Scott and Cowan and then took an emotional farewell of his troops, receiving an accolade that would have heartened a Marlborough or a Wellington and induced in him the irrational feeling that he was deserting them. As he said: ‘To be cheered by troops whom you have led to victory is grand and exhilarating. To be cheered by the gaunt remnants of those whom you have led only in defeat, withdrawal, and disaster, is infinitely moving—and humbling.’ Already Slim had won hearts and minds by his common touch, his utter simplicity and his complete lack of pretension and humbug. With a deep understanding of human nature, he possessed in abundance common sense, the soldier’s bluff humour and a down-to-earth wisdom. In many ways he was the very finest kind of Englishman, tough, blunt, unflappable, but sensitive and insightful too.

The affection in which he was held by his troops was remarkable and bears further examination. Patrick Davis, a Gurkha officer, had this to say: ‘We trusted him not to embroil us in a major botchery. We accepted the possibility of death, and the certainty of danger, discomfort, fatigue and hunger, provided that our fighting was constructive and with a reasonable chance of success. Moreover, Slim had been weaned with the 6th Gurkhas, so we had an extra reason for liking him.’ Slim’s salty humour was another reason for his popularity. Later, when the British in Burma became known as the ‘Forgotten Army’, he caused riotous laughter in the ranks when he poked fun at the sobriquet: ‘Forgotten Army. They’ve never even heard of us!’ A similar sensibility is evidenced by an anecdote from the dark days after the retreat, when Slim and [General Joseph] Stilwell shared a joke while sitting dejectedly on a wall. Stilwell said: ‘Well, at least you and I have an ancestor in common.’ ‘Who?’ said Slim. ‘Ethelred the Unready,’ replied Stilwell. Slim’s laughter reinforced Stilwell’s conviction that he was the only ‘good Limey’. Given his almost monomaniacal regard for fighting generals, it is no mystery why he should have so prized Slim. This explains the rare homage Stilwell paid his British counterpart when he presented Slim with an American M11 carbine—which Slim ever afterwards carried as his personal weapon.

Frank McLynn, The Burma Campaign: Disaster Into Triumph, 1942—1945 (The Yale Library of Military History) (93-94). Yale University Press. Kindle Edition.