The Failures of Detachment 101 and its Evolution into a Combined Arms Team

In the lore of Army Special Operations, Detachment 101 of the Office of Strategic Services (OSS) has reached near-mythical stature. The Detachment succeeded in racking up an impressive record. By the end of the war, it had been credited with at least 5,500 enemy killed, at the cost of some 200 American and indigenous personnel. However, Detachment 101’s early long-range operations in 1942 and 1943 were largely unsuccessful. These early missions were almost all total disasters. A lack of experience and poor intelligence were ignored by the commanding officer of Detachment 101, Lieutenant Colonel Carl Eifler, in his eagerness to show the value of his organization to Lieutenant General Joseph Stilwell, commanding general of the China-Burma-India (CBI) Theater. The majority of all Detachment 101 failures—agents captured and killed—took place between March and October of 1943. At the end of 1943, only one long-range penetration operation had succeeded out of six overlapping missions. In operations of this type, “failure” equated to the loss of the entire team.

The failed long-range penetration operations in 1943 claimed the lives of more than a dozen agents—Detachment 101’s most valuable assets. Just as in Burma during World War II, Korea in the early 1950s, Vietnam, and Iraq and Afghanistan today, the most valuable commodity in special operations is the highly trained operative. The following article will discuss the first three long-range penetration missions of Detachment 101: “A” Group, “B” Group, and “W” Group. These missions provided some of the earliest operational experiences for the unit. While, with the exception of “A” Group, the others were complete failures, all yielded valuable lessons that determined how future missions would be conducted. These lessons remain applicable now. Burma of 1943 had many of same problems found on America’s battlegrounds today: an unfamiliar operating environment, poor area intelligence with few human intelligence sources, and commanders eager to conduct operations before their units are prepared.

Map of Detachment 101’s area of operations in Burma highlights the predominant mountainous terrain.

Detachment 101 was formed in early 1942 by the Coordinator of Information (COI), the predecessor of the OSS. General William J. Donovan, the head of the COI and later the OSS, envisioned Detachment 101 as a unit organized and equipped to conduct sabotage behind enemy lines. That its sole mission would be sabotage was anathema for conventional military officers at the time and met much resistance. Many senior Army officers saw little utility in such a unit, and were reluctant to have OSS units operating in their wartime areas. Detachment 101 became the first OSS operational unit in America’s war effort.1 While OSS personnel were operating in North Africa in support of Operation TORCH, they were not engaged in full-scale combat operations. That’s where Detachment 101 was different.2

General Stilwell, however, was more receptive to an OSS presence. In one way, he had little choice. In January 1942, Malaya fell to the Japanese, and the British surrendered Singapore a month later. Having simultaneously occupied Thailand, the Japanese invaded Burma in late January 1942. By May, the Allied forces were in full retreat from Burma. Less than a month after his arrival, Stilwell led his staff out of Burma on foot. Upon reaching India, he declared shamefully, “We got run out of Burma, and it’s humiliating as hell. I think we ought to find out what caused it, go back, and retake Burma.”3 Furthermore, the CBI was not a priority. It was so resource starved that General Stilwell only “commanded” a smattering of American aviation units, and some poorly led and equipped Chinese troops that had been sent to protect the Burma road—the Allied lifeline that supplied China. Not only did he not have any American ground troops, the only Allied intelligence unit in his area of responsibility was the British-led “V-Force” in northern Burma.

While reluctant, Stilwell agreed to give Detachment 101 a chance to prove its value, in part because Eifler had served with him before the war. After receiving some very compressed training in OSS methods, Eifler and his twenty men arrived in India. These men had technical skills like communications, medical, and explosives. Not one of them had any combat experience, but they were highly motivated, willing, and eager to take the war to the Japanese. It was a group in search of a mission with no clear idea of where it would conduct operations against the Axis enemy. The general consensus was that once they got into theater, they would find a place from which to operate and to work out their methods of sabotaging the enemy.

With Stilwell’s concurrence, Eifler went first to China, where the COI originally envisioned that the Detachment would operate. It quickly became obvious that Detachment 101 could not conduct independent operations in China, something Stilwell already knew. Eifler then returned to India. Stilwell decided to give Detachment 101 an opportunity in Burma. His initial guidance to Eifler was “that he wanted to hear booms coming out of the jungle.”4 Eifler interpreted this to mean that Detachment 101 would have a brief window of opportunity—actually ninety days—to demonstrate its value to Stilwell.5 This was a tough order for a 21-man unit that had just been created and where the operational environment was totally unfamiliar. The challenge was fraught with disaster, but Eifler was determined to try.6

Eifler still had to work out an arrangement with the British, who had overall operational control of Burma. It was a lost British colony—and one that they desperately wanted back. The British viewed Detachment 101 with mixed emotions. The Detachment, if successful, would put some “teeth” in the American effort in northern Burma. In 1942, the U.S. effort in the CBI focused on the “Hump” airlift route—which the British regarded as a wasteful effort. They did not share Stilwell’s belief that the Chinese could provide effective combat forces if they had strong leadership.

On 20 June 1942, Eifler met with Colin Mackenzie, Special Operations Executive (SOE) commander in India.7 Eifler briefed Mackenzie on his proposed operational plan and addressed two potential points of concern. Both were amicably settled: first, SOE would have priority in recruiting personnel; second, a liaison arrangement was worked out so that the two organizations were not tripping over each other by conducting similar operations in the same areas.8 Mackenzie assigned Major Wally Richmond as Eifler’s liaison officer. It was Richmond’s responsibility to keep the Burma government-in-exile informed of the actions of both SOE and OSS.9 The two also decided that Detachment 101 would retain its autonomy which had been in doubt as Washington had not wanted to “ruffle London’s feathers” unnecessarily over this small group.10

Once they had settled operational matters concerning Burma, Detachment 101 established its base in Nazira, India. There, it set up a training area and a hub for logistics and communications. Simultaneously, the commander and operations staff began to plan missions. The first operation was a short-range mission. In late 1942, the only Allied controlled area was the small outpost of Fort Hertz (now Putao) in northern Burma. In late December 1942, a small group of Detachment 101 personnel moved to Fort Hertz to conduct what would later be named Operation FORWARD. From here, they moved to Sumprabum, near Japanese lines. FORWARD—reinforced with a few Anglo-Burman and Kachin recruits—was to relay intelligence, identify potential bombing targets, report weather conditions, and conduct very limited combat operations against local Japanese forces. FORWARD proved to be a success and further shallow penetrations were made into Japanese controlled areas. In April 1943, the “L,” “M,” and “J” agent groups went overland into Burma on intelligence-gathering operations. In August, KNOTHEAD—similar in scope to FORWARD—was established. These missions supplied a constant stream of tactical intelligence back to Nazira. From FORWARD and KNOTHEAD, Detachment 101 also began to recruit the native Kachins for guerilla operations.

While it would be the short-range missions that proved the value of Detachment 101, only long-range penetrations would give Stilwell the “booms” that he wanted within the allotted ninety days. Hence, multiple long-range missions were launched at the same time as the short-range operations. The emphasis was on getting as many groups into the field as quickly as possible. This placed great stress on the inexperienced and overworked staff. All of the personnel in the Detachment had multiple jobs and faced a herculean task in accomplishing them all well. This problem was further compounded by poor to nonexistent area intelligence, and poorly trained operators who were selected—not trained—to fit the mission. While there was a frenzy of effort in the Detachment, it did not necessarily equate to a well-planned operation.

The first long-range sabotage mission launched by Detachment 101 was “A” Group.11 This mission created a false sense of operational preparedness which was subsequently eroded by the deeper penetration operations. The “A” Group mission was pure sabotage. It was to disrupt Japanese air operations from Myitkyina by cutting rail lines and blowing bridges south of the city.12 Japanese fighter aircraft based at the Myitkyina airdrome were plaguing American efforts to supply Chinese forces via the “Hump” airlift route. This same airfield became the May 1944 objective of Merrill’s Marauders.

Three of the “A” Group members: Jack Barnard, Oscar Milton, and Pat Maddox. “A” Group was the first long-range penetration sabotage mission of Detachment 101 and that of the OSS as a whole. — From left to right are three of the “A” Group members: Jack Barnard, Oscar Milton, and Pat Maddox. “A” Group was the first long-range penetration sabotage mission of Detachment 101 and that of the OSS as a whole.

“A” Group was composed exclusively of British Commonwealth personnel. The leader was Jack Barnard. Oscar Milton, Patrick Maddox, Pat Quinn, John Beamish, Aram “Bunny” Aganoor, Dennis Francis, and Saw Egbert Timothy were the other operators. Four Kachin natives—Ah Khi, Ahdi Yaw Yin, Yaw Yin Naung, and Lazum Naw—accompanied the group.13 Most of the “A” Group personnel had worked in the timber or mining industries of Burma for years.14 Eifler recruited them with the help of Colonel Richmond, the British liaison officer, who knew many of the men personally.15 Most had prior military service. Jack Barnard, John Beamish, and Pat Maddox came from SOE, while Oscar Milton was on loan from the Burma Army. Many of the “A” Group had made the grueling walk-out of Burma with remnants of the Chinese Army in 1942. It was their experience that gave “A” Group members the necessary skills to survive—and operate—hundreds of miles behind Japanese lines: knowledge of the terrain, environment, peoples, and culture, as well as critical language skills.

John Beamish of “A” Group stands in the door of the C-87 drop aircraft as Lieutenant Colonel John Coughlin, Detachment 101’s Executive Officer, looks out.

The first major task for “A” Group was a successful infiltration. The initial plan called for the group to move overland into their operating area from Fort Hertz, where FORWARD was getting settled. However, the group found this impossible. Security was too lax and the British officer in charge of the area, a Colonel Gamble, was less than helpful.16 It was Gamble’s poor operations security that convinced Eifler that the Japanese would discover that a clandestine group—accompanied by Kachin porters—was trying to infiltrate. Eifler then decided to parachute the group behind the lines. After several hours of ground instruction, the group was deemed ready to jump. On 5 February 1942, Barnard accompanied an aerial reconnaissance mission to review the drop zone. Two days later, Barnard and Saw parachuted in safely, although their radio was destroyed in the drop. The remainder of the team dropped in the next day after confirming that the recognition panels indicated the area was safe.17 Despite this being the first jump for the group, all landed without mishap.

“A” Group quickly set to its mission of destroying three railroad bridges. After creating a rally point where the teams would rendezvous for the walk-out once their bridges were blown, “A” Group split up.18 Oscar, Saw, and the four Kachins stayed at the rally point. The others began their 40-mile march south. Near their targets, the three teams split up and moved to their respective bridges. Maddox and Francis went to the Namhkwin bridge, Quinn and Aganoor headed for a smaller bridge two miles south of the Namhkwin bridge, and Barnard and Beamish moved to the Dagwin bridge. Everything appeared to be going well. The three teams got to their objectives unseen on the night of 23 February 1943. Once there, they prepared their demolitions for timed, simultaneous explosions.

However, Maddox and Francis, plagued by faulty timers, dropped the Namhkwin bridge too early. The premature explosion jeopardized the other teams’ efforts. Barnard and Beamish abandoned their mission. Pat and Aganoor were discovered while placing their charges. They fired on local police who came to investigate. Soon, the police and local Japanese occupation troops were in pursuit. Quinn and Aganoor split up to increase their chances of escape. Both intended to independently work their way back to the rally point. Pat escaped but Aganoor was captured and presumably killed.

Unbeknownst to the OSS, the first Chindit operation—a large long-range penetration raid led by British Major General Orde Wingate—was also operating nearby.19 Because the Japanese presumed the bridge demolition missions were connected to the Chindits, they did not expand the search for the scattered teams. This time the OSS benefited from the local confusion.

Barnard and Beamish made it to the rendezvous camp on 24 February, after speed marching forty miles in less than a day. They thought that the other two groups had been captured or killed, and that Japanese forces were in close pursuit. Without pausing to rest, Barnard, Beamish, Oscar, Saw, and the Kachins gathered what supplies they could carry and beat a hasty retreat. Maddox and Francis arrived on 27 February and Quinn showed up the next day. From here, Maddox, Francis, and Quinn—minus Aganoor—started their trek north back to Fort Hertz. By then “A” Group had been behind enemy lines for twenty days.

Despite the fact that “A” Group was still behind enemy lines, Eifler felt pressured to launch additional—and more ambitious—operations. Thus, the second sabotage mission, code-named “B” Group, was launched while “A” Group was still south of Myitkyina. “B” Group parachuted in near Lawksawk, further south of “A” Group, during daylight on 24 February 1943. “B” Group, led by Harry Ballard, was comprised of John Clark, Vierap Pillay, Lionel Cornelius, Kenneth Murray, and Cyril Goodwin. All were either Anglo-Burmans or Anglo-Indians recruited from Burmese refugee camps in India.20

Major William Ray Peers, Eifler’s number three, was part of the drop crew on the aircraft. In his book, Behind the Burma Road, Peers explained his misgivings about the selected drop zone because it was only a few miles from several villages and the aircraft would be easily noticed. However, assured by Ballard that the group would be fine, Peers approved the parachute drop.21 Never again would the mission leader have the authority to make the decision to execute. The Detachment 101 staff correctly concluded that a leader, primed by adrenaline to go, could not be relied on to make an objective assessment when immediate risk had escalated.22

The C-87, as seen above, is the designation given to the cargo version of the B-24 bomber.

Lawksawk was out of the range of Allied fighters based in India. Therefore a China-based Army Air Forces C-87 and P-40 fighter escort had to be used.23 In early 1943, Detachment 101 had only the Army Air Forces for air support. General Stilwell’s priority—and hence that of the Tenth Air Force—was to fly as much cargo as possible into China over the Himalayan “Hump” route. Thus, the request for a single cargo plane had to go through Tenth Air Force command channels to General Clayton Bissell before it reached Stilwell.24 Stilwell denied the request while it was being processed by the Tenth Air Force because he wanted Detachment 101 to infiltrate groups overland to avoid taxing his limited airlift. Eifler pointed out that “A” Group had demonstrated that this was not always practical. Stilwell relented when Eifler said that the entire mission—reconnaissance, personnel, and supply drop—could be done with a single mission.25 Eifler also agreed to bomb Lashio on the return flight. His supply bundle kickers would manhandle twenty 30-pound bombs out of the aircraft over the Lashio airfield to disrupt Japanese air operations.26 The lack of prior reconnaissance alone proved fatal for “B” Group.

“B” Group was launched on 24 February to add to the “booms” that “A” Group was supposedly already making in Burma. Twenty minutes from the drop zone, the men of “B” Group were offered the traditional British brandy–laced coffee. At 1530 hours, they jumped. All landed safely although Goodwin was hung up in a tree. As the cargo and escort planes circled overhead after the drop, one man waved goodbye.27 Unfortunately, the men on the ground could not see what Peers saw from the C-87.

As we made our last pass, we could see a discomforting sight: villagers streaming out in every direction, heading towards the drop zone. I had an aching feeling that the lines looked hostile. I couldn’t get it out of my head that they were out to kill. And because of this, I felt it had been a bad decision. As I sat in the plane, I felt miserable about the whole affair and wondered why I had ever got mixed up in this sort of business.28

Map of “W” group travels, showing the sea route taken from Chittagong, in present-day Bangladesh, to the amphibious insertion near Kyaukpyu.

Yet, without pause for reflection as to what happened to “A” or “B” Groups, the long-range penetration missions continued to be launched. Lieutenant General Noel Mackintosh Stuart Irwin, commander of the British Eastern Army in the Arakan region of Burma, asked Detachment 101 for assistance in cutting the Japanese supply line on the Prome–Taungup coastal road. Any help that Detachment 101 could provide would aid him in recapturing Donbiak (Shinkhali).29 Since the Arakan is principally a region of thick mangrove swamp along the west coast of Burma, “W” Group would have to be inserted by boat. The “W” Group would be operating even farther south than “A” or “B” Groups, well beyond Detachment 101’s primary area of operations.

Detachment 101 was even less prepared for boat insertions than it was for those by air. It would be another first for Detachment 101. Unlike “A” Group, which received some parachute training, “W” Group would not get boat training. The Detachment had no organic boats, and the landing party from Detachment 101 also had no experience.30 The Detachment would not be able to conduct successful small-boat operations until the Ceylon-based Detachment 404 Maritime Unit and Operations Group—later renamed the Detachment 101 Arakan Field Unit—started operating in the region in late 1944.

Detachment 101 had to rely upon the British Navy for boats.31 British Naval restrictions applied to “W” Group—“Operation MAURICE” to them. The operation would be on a tight schedule. The naval delivery vessels had to be clear of the area by daylight to avoid detection and possible attack by Japanese air and naval forces.32 The British boats carrying the team and its rubber boats could not carry sufficient fuel internally to support a night reconnaissance of the landing site the night before and return the next night to drop off the team. Eifler requested that extra fuel be carried on deck to extend the range of the delivery vessels. His request was denied because carrying fuel externally was against British Navy regulations. Eifler asked Vice Admiral Herbert Fitzherbert, the Royal Indian Navy Commander, for a waiver. The British admiral did not feel that there was any situation in the theater that warranted a violation of this regulation.33

Anticipating that the mission could end in disaster, Eifler—who was to be a member of the landing party—wrote a blunt memo and gave it to Lieutenant Colonel John G. Coughlin, his second in command. He was to forward the note to OSS chief, General Donovan, if the detachment commander went missing because Eifler himself would lead the landing party.

In the event that we do not come back, I wish to use this report as a reason to Washington why you should have your own boats … If I, at the present time, had my own boats, I would not even consider undertaking this project now … As I stated earlier in this report to you, chances at the present time appear to be against us, but we are going ahead … I do not feel that it is right to ask our men to take these unnecessary chances which become necessary in an attempt to coordinate or work with other agencies.34

The “W” Group consisted of six Anglo-Burman/Indian agents: Charles Morrell, John Sheridan, Vincent Snadden, John Aikman, Alex D’Attaides, and Geoffrey Willson.35 Eifler and the team finally got ashore near Kyaukpyu, Burma, on the night of 8 March 1943. They had to move—and hide before daybreak—more than one thousand pounds of supplies.36 It took five tries to find a good landing site. The “wild card” proved to be Eifler himself.

Because of the time lost in the previous landing attempts, Eifler did not think that the agents would have the time to bury the rafts before dawn. In order to reduce the chances of the agents being discovered, Eifler decided to accompany them and swim to the motor launch with the rubber boats in tow. After the six agents got ashore with their supplies, Eifler told them to get the stuff under cover. When he shook their hands in farewell, he warned them that if discovered, they were not to be taken alive.”37 That was the last time that “W” Group was seen by Detachment 101, but the drama was not over.

The pounding surf and darkness proved to be nearly insurmountable even for the brawny OSS colonel. As he struggled to drag the five rubber boats back through the surf, Eifler was thrown head first into a large rock. Dazed, he barely managed to tow the rafts back to the launch craft in time. He was so disoriented that he only found the motor launch when he heard the sound of the anchor chain being pulled up. It had taken so long to get the agents ashore that dawn was soon approaching: Eifler’s luck held.38

The de Havilland Gypsy Moth in which Lieutenant Colonel Eifler flew General Donovan behind Japanese lines to visit the KNOTHEAD group. In the rear and at the controls of the airplane is Lieutenant Colonel Carl Eifler, commanding officer of Detachment 101. General William J. Donovan is in the front seat.

The “W” Group fiasco marked the beginning of the end of Eifler as the commander of Detachment 101. His head injury was severe. Neither prodigious amounts of alcohol nor self-medicating with morphine could dull the constant pain.39 It would eventually prove to be the grounds to remove the brash colonel from command. General Donovan came in November 1943 to evaluate Eifler and Detachment 101. Despite Eifler’s fearless piloting when he took Donovan behind enemy lines in a circa-1925 Gypsy Moth biplane to visit KNOTHEAD, the OSS chief ordered him to relinquish command for medical reasons and to return stateside to recover.40

After the consecutive long-range penetration failures by “B” and “W” Groups, Detachment 101 had to get organized, evaluate the lessons learned, and train for future missions. Detachment 101 focused on the “A” Group operation. One key lesson was to insert a small “pathfinder” team into the area of operations to do a ground reconnaissance before the main body. This lesson was not recognized until “B” Group disappeared. Scarcity of air support, the schedule of the drop plane, and allowing the mission commander to make the execution decision doomed that effort. “W” Group, similar to “B” Group, was shackled by the regulations and operating restrictions of the Royal Indian Navy. There was no pathfinder team, no prior reconnaissance, nor boat training. The post-mission note on “B” Group that called for air reconnaissance of the area of operations beforehand was ignored by “W” Group.41 These lessons later became standing operating procedure, however, they were too late to help the remaining long-range penetration operations in 1943, the BALLS and REX missions, as well as BALLS #1, a follow-on mission in February 1944 to establish contact with the BALLS group. All ended in failure.

Detachment 101 also learned by default the very difficult lesson of overextending its capabilities and the necessity for current intelligence. Detachment 101 had successfully conducted shallow penetrations in 1943. FORWARD and KNOTHEAD had established themselves by walking into northern Burma. These missions provided intelligence for bombing targets, built enemy order of battle, and kept the Detachment abreast of the general situation in Burma. These northern Burma operations benefited from the help of the indigenous Kachin tribes. Contrary to other ethnic groups in Burma, the Kachins were pro-Allied and willing to help Detachment 101 in its operations. Of the long-range penetration missions in 1943, only one, “A” Group, was in a Kachin area. While they succeeded in dropping only one bridge instead of the original three, the “A” Group was quite successful. The debriefs from “A” Group provided extensive intelligence on the attitudes of the local population, economic hardships, locations and patrolling schedules of Japanese troops, and familiarity with jungle conditions.42 Detachment 101 was able to use this knowledge in its subsequent missions into the Kachin-dominated area prior to the Marauder’s advance in mid-1944.

The third and biggest lesson learned had a major impact on future operations and helped Detachment 101 grow into one of the largest OSS overseas commands. Eifler realized how critical it was for the Detachment to have its own organic transportation to control the insertion, extraction, and support of teams behind enemy lines. Eifler reported his problems dealing with the Army Air Forces on 6 April 1943. Every Army Air Forces unit—bombers, fighters, and transport—had to have local approvals before General Stilwell gave his final approval.43 Even with permission granted to use Air Forces assets, Detachment 101 operations were still bound by their regulations and restrictions. This is what Eifler told OSS headquarters in Washington:

From the beginning, when I was originally called into this organization, I have stated that successful operations should utilize the methods of the smuggler; that military methods would not be effective. We are forced at the present time, however, to use military methods that are all wrong for this kind of work … The planes we use are military planes manned by military personnel, operated in a military manner, first thought and consideration being given to equipment … for an organization like ours, our first thought should be given our main equipment and that equipment is a trained agent. He is a tool, a very expensive tool, and his life should be guarded jealously as long as it is in our hands. If he is to be flown into enemy territory, he should be given every chance of a successful landing instead of which, flying under military regulations, he is taken over enemy territory in broad daylight, dropped in daylight along with his equipment … Military planes cannot fly at night. Why, I don’t know.44

It likewise applied to amphibious insertions. The other element was operational security. Agents and operations were exposed to unnecessary risks because non-cleared or “vetted” personnel were involved in operational insertions, resupply, and extractions.

Eifler had a solution. He asked for permission to purchase a small fleet of aircraft that could take off and land on short landing fields and be fitted with pontoons if necessary. As for delivery boats, Eifler, the former Customs Service officer, proposed a fast speedboat like those used by liquor smugglers during Prohibition in the United States.45 Fortunately, Donovan and the OSS staff agreed. By the end of the war, 101 had its own small air force—dubbed the “Red Ass Squadron”—of light L-1 and L-5 liaison and artillery spotter aircraft. These planes proved ideal for insertion and extraction of personnel, able bodied or wounded. Detachment 101 also had a small fleet of dedicated U.S. Army Air Force C-47 cargo aircraft to drop supplies. In November 1943, a small PT-like boat was acquired. By 1945, Detachment 101 had a small fleet of high-powered boats, as well as a section of OSS Maritime Unit swimmers. However, all this was post-Eifler.

Yet, in March 1943, Detachment 101’s future was still very much in doubt because the results of its three long-range penetration operations were unknown. Both sections of “A” Group were following the same general trail, but made their way independently to Fort Hertz. They knew that the first outposts of Kachin Levies, a British-led frontier force, were located on the approaches to Fort Hertz. Maddox’s group arrived on 16 May 1943. Barnard’s group, in the lead and in contrast to Maddox’s group, had radio contact with Detachment 101 and received some supply drops. On 7 March, a note was dropped ordering them to stay in the area and provide intelligence based on an urgent and critical need.46 The Japanese had reinforced the area around Myitkyina in response to the Chindit expedition, and it was feared that they would make a push north to take Sumprabum. Barnard’s group lingered in the area and collected intelligence on targets, roads, and the Japanese military, as well as determined the friendly villages and assessed the general situation in Burma. They returned to Fort Hertz on 11 June after eighteen weeks in the field behind enemy lines. Afterward, Barnard and Beamish elected to return to SOE.47 Maddox later parachuted in to take charge of the RED group and Quinn did the same with PAT in November 1943. Milton chose to lead the OSCAR group that rescued downed pilots.

Inserting the teams blind meant that Eifler and the Detachment 101 staff had no idea as to why the mission failed or what happened to “B” or “W” Groups at the time. It was not until June 1945 that Detachment 101 learned the fate of their 1943 long-range teams. After Rangoon was captured by the British in May 1945, Colonel Ray Peers, the last commander of Detachment 101, sent Lieutenant Danny Mudrinich, a former FORWARD operative from northern Burma, to Rangoon to investigate the fate of their lost agents. Mudrinich had to rely heavily on X-2 (OSS counter-intelligence branch) interrogations of Japanese collaborators and friendly natives. Despite being shot at by Japanese holdouts, the OSS lieutenant interviewed villagers who had last seen the missing agents. At the end of June 1945 the investigations were concluded and the Detachment’s financial officer George Gorin and lawyer Charles Henderson then settled the pay and provided restitution to the families of the lost agents.

The drop on 24 February 1943 was the last contact Detachment 101 ever had with “B” Group. Radioman Allan Richter remembered monitoring the radios for a week hoping for the call that never came.48 On the premise that “B” Group radios had been damaged in the jump, a B-25 escorted by two P-40s flew up and down the valley on 6 March searching for recognition panels.49 They were too late. Two days before, the detachment radio operators had heard the following Japanese broadcast:

Rangoon: Unable to take any positive steps in the retaking of Burmese territory, the desperate British Army in India is now resorting to external activities, some of which were frustrated at the very start by the vigilant Japanese authorities in Burma and the loyal attitude of the Burmese towards their reborn country. A recent report revealed that a group of six British spies on 23 February landed by parachute at a certain point in north-western Burma. Entertaining the idea that any place was safe where there were no Japanese troops, they were greatly shocked when a group of alert Burmese villagers immediately rushed at them. In the struggle that followed, the brave villagers killed three of the spies and captured the rest and subsequently delivered them to the Japanese troops stationed nearby. This recent incident shows that any and all attempts by Britain to win and cajole the Burmese will end in failure and disaster. All the Burmese people, from the humble villager to the patriotic leader, realize the danger of John Bull.50

According to Lieutenant Mudrinich’s 1945 investigation, the villagers led the captured survivors of “B” Group to Lawksawk. On 27 February they were turned over to the Japanese who imprisoned them in Taunggyi. They provided no information despite being severely tortured for two to three days. In an attempt to convince the rest to talk, the Japanese executed three men—likely Ballard, Goodwin, and Hood. On 15 March 1943, the last three prisoners, all in very poor health, were taken under heavy guard to Rangoon. They never arrived.51

Parachute insertions into Japanese-occupied Burma were often conducted under less-than-ideal conditions. This undated photograph shows a daylight insertion. Note the rough terrain, vegetation, and low altitude of the C-47 drop aircraft.

Eifler’s handshakes on the beach were the last contact with “W” Group. Once ashore, the agents hid themselves. The following day, they paid a fisherman to take them to the nearby village of Kyaukpyu. “W” Group then managed to get to Dawmya. Here the agents’ luck ran out. The group was probably betrayed to the Japanese by local villagers. On 19 March 1943, on a trail near Dawmya, Japanese troops surrounded the agents of “W” Group. Trapped, they followed Eifler’s advice and tried to shoot their way out. One Japanese soldier was killed and another wounded. However Charles Morrell and John Sheridan lost their lives in the breakout. The remaining four sought cover on a wooded hill nearby. The Japanese forces mortared the hill, killing Vincent Snadden. The last three agents escaped by moving into heavier vegetation. On the run, John Aikman was chased from Natmaw village, caught by the villagers and shot by the headman on 24 March 1943. Three weeks later, the Japanese captured D’Attaides and Willson. They were taken to the prison at Taungup, tortured, and beheaded sometime around 25 April 1943.52

However, despite having lost contact with “B” and “W” Groups and not knowing why they failed, Detachment 101 continued throughout 1943 and early 1944 to launch more ambitious long-range penetration operations further and further south. In south Burma, the populations were not willing to help the Allies. Thus, the BALLS, BALLS #1, and REX missions were complete failures. REX, the most ambitious of all of them, was a two-man team that parachuted in the pre-dawn hours of 13 November 1943 into the outskirts of Rangoon to report harbor traffic. It was never heard from again.

Although these operational failures in 1943 and early 1944 were serious, the detachment commanders and staff learned from their mistakes, changed concepts of operations, developed standing operating procedures, instituted necessary training, and incorporated the Kachins. Detachment 101 learned the necessity for having current area intelligence and organic transportation assets, as well as the value of working with trusted and capable native populations. Unbridled enthusiasm gave way to more realistic operational plans that yielded results. While these elements were not successfully applied to the long-range penetrations of 1943 and early 1944, they were afterward. They built on the more successful shallow penetrations in northern Burma to expand their capabilities and justify organic transportation. The probability of success was increased tremendously. By learning these lessons and focusing their efforts in the north where the Kachins could help, Detachment 101 would, by May 1944, prove to be an effective intelligence collection unit that could field a strong guerrilla fighting force and become a thorn in the side of the Japanese in northern Burma. Detachment 101 became such an indispensable asset in the Burma Campaign that it was awarded a Presidential Unit Citation in January 1946. It was the only OSS unit in the Far East to be so recognized. Only the OSS Operational Groups in Europe received the same honor.

These same operating principles apply to Army Special Operations today. Enthusiasm cannot be confused with capability and readiness for combat. Detachment 101 learned this lesson the hard way in 1943 and early 1944. However, the constant drive to improve enabled it to succeed and become a model organization in the OSS.

This article is dedicated to the veterans of Detachment 101. Special thanks go to Mrs. Marje Luce, longtime editor of the Detachment 101 Association newsletter and widow of 1066r Navy Captain James Luce. Without her help this article would not have been possible.
Thanks Marje.

The Failures of Detachment 101

and its Evolution into a Combined Arms Team

“B” Group jump into Japanese occupied Burma

ENDNOTES