The Ron Penhall Collection

The Second World War Arakan operations M.M. group of five awarded to Private J. T. Coker, Royal West Kent Regiment, attached No. 1 Commando, for what has been described as ‘one of the bloodiest engagements of the entire Burma War’: the recommendation for his M.M. contains remarkable similarities to that for the V.C. awarded to Lieutenant G. A. Knowland, also of No. 1 Commando, for the same action - the only major difference is that Coker somehow survived

Military Medal, G.VI.R. (14604363 Pte. J. T. Coker, R.W. Kent R.); 1939-45 Star; Burma Star; Defence and War Medals, good very fine and better (5)
£2500-3000

This lot was sold as part of a special collection, The Ron Penhall Collection.

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M.M. London Gazette 19 April 1945. The original recommendation states:

‘On 31 January 1945, at Hill 170 near Kangaw, Private Coker was No. 2 on an L.M.G. ordered to go forward to a weapon pit where the previous two men had been killed. His No. 1 on the gun was killed immediately after his arrival as the pit was under continual enemy fire. He took over the gun and continued firing. Two other men were sent to join him but were killed instantaneously. His Section Sergeant then joined him in the trench manning the Bren belonging to the two men just killed. The Section Sergeant was then killed and Private Coker’s Bren put out of action. He immediately took over his Sergeant’s Bren and continued firing. He was then joined by another man with a haversack of grenades and between them they enabled a Bren gunner who had been cut off, to rejoin them. Throughout the day Private Coker showed great coolness and courage in the face of great difficulties and was throughout regardless of his own safety.’

James Thomas Coker was serving in No. 1 Commando at the time of the above engagement at Hill 170, near Kangaw, a component of 3rd Commando Brigade, 15 Corps. The following citation, published in the London Gazette on 12 April 1945, just a few days before Coker’s M.M., describes the V.C.-winning exploits of fellow No. 1 Commando, Lieutenant G. A. Knowland, Norfolk Regiment, and not only bears testimony to the ferocity of the engagement but also strongly suggests that Coker was a member of that gallant officer’s hard-pressed platoon:

‘In Burma on 31 January 1945, near Kangaw, Lieutenant Knowland was commanding the forward platoon of a Troop positioned on the extreme north of a hill which was subjected to very heavy and repeated enemy attacks throughout the whole day. Before the first attack started, Lieutenant Knowland’s platoon was heavily mortared and machine-gunned, yet he moved about his men keeping them alert and encouraging them, though under fire himself at the time.

When the enemy, some 300 strong in all, made their first assault they concentrated all their efforts on his platoon of 24 men but in spite of the ferocity of the attack, he moved about from trench to trench distributing ammunition, and firing his rifle and throwing his grenades at the enemy, often from completely exposed positions.

Later, when the crew of one of his forward Bren guns had all been wounded, he sent back to Troop H.Q. for another crew and ran forward to man the gun himself until they arrived. The enemy was then less than 10 yards from him in dead ground on the hill so in order to get a better field of fire, he stood on top of the trench, firing the light machine-gun from his hip and successfully keeping them at a distance until a Medical Orderly had dressed and evacuated the wounded men behind him. The new Bren gun team also became casualties on the way up and Lieutenant Knowland continued to fire the gun until another team took over.

Later, when a fresh attack came in he took over a 2-inch mortar and in spite of heavy fire and the closeness of the enemy, he stood up in the open to face them, firing the mortar from his hip and killing six of them with his first bomb. When all the bombs were expended he went back through heavy grenade, mortar and machine-gun fire to get more, which he fired in the same way from the open in front of his platoon positions. When those bombs were finished he went back to his own trench and still standing up fired his rifle at them. Being hard pressed and with the enemy closing in on him from only 10 yards away, he had no time to re-charge his magazine. Snatching up the Tommy gun of a casualty, he sprayed the enemy and was mortally wounded stemming the assault, though not before he had killed and wounded many of the enemy.

Such was the inspiration of his magnificent heroism, that, though fourteen out of twenty-four of his platoon became casualties at an early stage, and six of his positions were over-run by the enemy, his men held on through twelve hours of continuous and fierce fighting until reinforcements arrived. If this northern end of the hill had fallen the rest of the hill would have been endangered, the beach-head dominated by the enemy and other units farther inland cut off from their source of supplies. As it was, the final successful counter-attack was launched from the vital ground which Lieutenant Knowland had taken such a gallant part in holding.’

Further evidence of the point-blank nature of the action is to be found in Colonel Michael Hickey’s history, The Unforgettable Army, Slim’s XIVth Army in Burma:

‘After a week of Japanese counter-attacks the Commandos moved forward to take Kangaw village, finally cutting the Japanese escape route. There was now a desperate attempt to dislodge them, the enemy throwing in a succession of suicidal attacks against Hill 170. For 36 hours the issue was in the balance. One of Trevor’s Men [Lieutenant-Colonel K. Trevor, C.O. of No. 1 Commando], “Tag” Barnes [Acting Bombardier E. Barnes, M.M., R.A., attached No. 1 Commando], recalled the tension as a Japanese night attack came in. The Commandos crouched on their hurriedly-dug slits on the hill, grenades ready to throw. Section commanders gave whispered orders - “prepare to throw” - as the rustling in the undergrowth grew louder and louder and closer. Suddenly, the Japanese were in among them, screaming and throwing grenades. The noise was overwhelming; then, just as suddenly, the enemy were gone, leaving their dead, many of them actually in the defenders’ trenches. Two hours later, the tin cans on the wire could be heard, being gently rattled. A quiet voice came from the darkness, asking in perfectly accented English, “Commandos, are you still there?” This was repeated, over and over; always closer. Suddenly the Japanese opened up at ten yards’ range. Barnes’s Bren gunner was mortally wounded, dying in his arms. The wooden stock of his Garand rifle was shattered, but still it fired. The final attack was at 3 a.m. As daylight came it revealed a frightful sight: the Japanese in their hundreds lay in front of, and inside, the Commandos’ position.’