A superb Second World War Imphal operations M.C. group of six awarded to Captain J. M. “Tim” Carew, Devonshire Regiment, late Parachute Regiment and Gurkha Rifles, who later wrote several well-known military histories: in winning his M.C. with the Gurkhas, Carew led three separate charges against the Japanese on the “Scraggy” feature - and collected as many wounds

Military Cross, G.VI.R., reverse officially dated ‘1944’; 1939-45 Star; Burma Star; Defence and War Medals, M.I.D. oak leaf; General Service 1918-62, 2 clasps, S.E. Asia 1945-46, Malaya (Lieut., M.C., Devon.), generally good very fine (6) £2500-3000

M.C. London Gazette 5 October 1944. The original recommendation states:

‘On the evening 9 June 1944, in the area of Shenam on the Palel-Tamu Road, after heavy artillery fire had destroyed the forward platoon position on the “Scraggy” feature, knocking out all three L.M.Gs and causing many casualties, the enemy attacked with approximately one platoon behind a heavy grenade barrage. Our own forward platoon area was overrun and the Japs, carrying grenades in sandbags, continued their advance down hill towards the main positions.
2nd Lieutenant Carew, who had with him at the time one section which was not in action, immediately led them forward with great dash and spirit and succeeded in halting the enemy’s advance, though every man in the section was either killed or wounded, 2nd Lieutenant Carew himself being hit.
Realising the need for hitting the enemy before he could dig himself in securely, 2nd Lieutenant Carew organised another party of about a dozen men and again led them forward against the enemy. In spite of heavy casualties caused by the incessant grenade throwing of the enemy, the latter was driven back to our original forward line.
Unable to make further headway with his much depleted force, 2nd Lieutenant Carew returned to his company and organised yet another counter-attack force of about two sections. Although himself wounded in two places, he led this third assault, again through showers of enemy grenades, in which he was wounded once more. The counter-attack penetrated into the enemy occupied positions, but Jap reinforcements and the heavy casualties caused to our own small force compelled it to withdraw. 2nd Lieutenant Carew was one of the last to leave and came back carrying a badly wounded man. It was only after receiving a direct order from his Company Commander, that 2nd Lieutenant Carew eventually proceeded, very reluctantly, to the R.A.P. for medical attention.
Throughout the action he showed himself to be completely fearless and willing to accept any odds and was a magnificent example and inspiration to the men.’

Mention in despatches: unverified.

John Mohun “Tim” Carew was born in Bury St. Edmunds in July 1921, the great-nephew of Sir John Fortescue, and was educated at Marlborough, where he enjoyed ‘an outstandingly undistinguished career’. Having joined Exeter City Police as a cadet in 1938, he enlisted as a Trooper in the Royal Horse Guards soon after the outbreak of hostilities, suffering a drop in salary to ‘fourteen shillings a week (less barrack damages)’, following which he rose to the rank of Corporal in the 4th Battalion of newly established Parachute Regiment.

In early 1943, however, while attending a pre-O.C.T.U. in the U.K., Carew volunteered for the Indian Army, and one year later was serving as a 2nd Lieutenant in the 3rd Gurkha Rifles on the Burma front. And it was for his magnificent bravery in the heavy fighting of 9 June 1944, on the “Scraggy” feature, Imphal, that he was awarded his M.C. His own modest account of the action in question appears in his entertaining wartime memoirs, All This And A Medal Too:

‘I spoke to the Colonel on the field telephone. That wise and kindly veteran of another world war and a dozen frontier skirmishes said: “Dig your toes in boy. They’ll come to you.”

The next afternoon the Colonel’s prophecy was proved only too right. At about three o’clock the artillery bombardment started, and although this was no new experience for any of us, it seemed that it was heavier and lasted longer than ever before ... The situation was an ugly one in all conscience. With the forward platoon virtually annihilated, the company was split into two and the Japs were between the second platoon who had also suffered considerable casualties in the shelling and the reserve platoon who were still a compact fighting force.

Barney made a quick decision. It was obvious that only an immediate counter-attack would stop a further advance. It was doubtful if ‘A’ Company numbered 60 rifles.

“It’s all yours,” he said to me. “Take the reserve platoon and shift’em. I’ll get on the blower and try and get some help sent up. Because if they attack us again we’ve had it.”

I realised the wisdom of this. A surprise counter-attack by a fresh platoon might have the desired effect. The Japs were consolidating their newly won ground and licking their wounds. But the reserve platoon was ready for anything.

Jemadar Kharak Sing Thapa, who commanded the reserve platoon, nodded his approval when I told him of the plan. With moustache bristling he addressed the men.

He barked: “Silence! The Lieutenant Sahib will lead us forward in a counter-attack and we will break through to No. 3 platoon who are much worse off than we are. Stand fast every man, for there will be killing to be done. No. 2 platoon, even though it is composed of dolts and idiots, has not been kept in reserve for nothing.” Ever sparing with his praise, Kharak was really inordinately proud of his platoon.

By my side were Manbir and Hastabahadur.

I said: “Ah, you two grinning apes. Are you in good heart?” The two little men grinned broadly and assured me that they were. Every other rifleman in the immediate vicinity grinned too. They were a sight to gladden the heart of any commander. I breathed a silent prayer that I might be worthy of them.

I said: “It is well. I shall need some good hearts with me on this job.” To the Jemadar I pronounced: “We shall move those swine, Jemadar Sahib. If I am hit you will press the attack home. Because if we do not counter-attack soon the Japs will turn on the platoon and wipe them out. So it’s up to us.”

I gave my orders verbally to the whole platoon. It is doubtful whether they would have helped me towards a nomination to the Staff College, but the grim expressions on the faces of the men boded ill for the Japanese ... ’

Carew was indeed wounded leading the subsequent attack. He continues:

‘We attacked across open ground in the face of murderous fire. As we got closer the Japs rained showers of hand grenades at us. Jemadar Kharak Singh, kukri in hand, was shot between the eyes and fell at my feet. Manbir, who was firing his Bren gun from the hip, fell in a heap over the Jemadar’s body. He spoke once before he died. He said: “Take the gun, Hastabahadur, and my five cigarettes.”

I was then hit myself. I felt a searing pain in my left shoulder and knew it was a fragment of shrapnel from one of the Jap grenades. After I had gone a further ten yards I received two more fragments in my right leg. I fell down, and when I tried to get up the leg buckled ridiculously under me. I was bleeding badly from the wound in my shoulder and felt myself losing consciousness. But the attack had not failed, even though it had been halted ... In a base hospital at Imphal my body had its first total immersion in hot water for six months. My clothes were removed and burned by a disdainful medical orderly. Clad in pink pyjamas, I lay in white sheets while an ancient Indian scraped four days’ beard from my face. I drank an enormous tot of whisky and ten minutes later was tight. Another orderly approached with a tray on which were roast chicken and green peas. Just before I sank into a dreamless sleep which was to last for 20 hours, I remember thinking that being wounded had its points ... ’

Remaining in the Gurkhas after the War, Carew served in the Java operations against the Indonesian terrorists 1945-46 and, after transferring to the Devons, in the anti-bandit operations in Malaya 1948-49, in addition to the anti-terrorist campaign in Eritrea in 1951.

He resigned his commission as a Captain in 1953, in order to pursue a literary career, initially as a feature writer for the Sunday Express. But he will best be remembered for his popular military histories, not least The Fall of Hong Kong, the type of work that gained him a reputation for being one of the finest contemporary writers to have portrayed the British soldier at war; sold with 9 books written by Carew, including a copy of his wartime memoirs, All This And A Medal Too.