Halfway across the world, I walk into evacuated Rangoon in Burma and find the houses blazing along deserted streets. The Japanese are 30 miles away. | The one undismayed force in Burma were unforgettable heroes of the Flying Tigers on airfield north of Rangoon. They were a new type of fighting man. |
The last American trucks to get up the Burma Road to China with military supplies. I get a complete picture story on the Burma Road just as it becomes useless. | The saddest flight I saw was the exodus of Burma's Indian artisians from Burma, suffering robbery and murder by Burmese who had always despised them. |
Oilfields of Yenangyaung have not yet been blown up when I ride through ahead of Japs. My best friend now is my jeep, obtained under lend-lease to China. | A famous meeting at Maymyo shown (from left) Generalissimo Chiang, Madame Chiang, Author Clare Boothe, General Stilwell, publicist Hollington Tong. |
We decided to clear out of Burma by going through the unexplored Naga Hills. Here we get a 50-gal. drum of gasoline and inaccurate maps of the Naga country. | Our two jeeps cross the Irrawaddy at Bhamo. Currents spin rafts around, nearly dumping jeeps in river. The trick is to balance the jeeps in center of raft. |
We get a lift on the railway from Myitkyina to Mogaung. Chinese characters were written by officials at Rangoon who lent us jeeps to drive to Burma Road. | Kachin tribesmen, many of whom had never seen a wheel, let alone a jeep, admire it. They told one another how it flew, swam, roared like a tiger when angry. |
The rains had come and made clay ox tracks all but impassable. One jeep pulls other out of bog. Behind is the green jungle of tigers, leopards, huge snakes. | We have to widen this foot bridge to get the jeeps across, for river is too deep to ford. The only tool used by Kachins is the dah, a big, broad-bladed sword. |
It takes 50 Kachin tribesmen all morning to haul my jeep up the slipping 20-ft. bank of this stream. We travel from 6:30 a.m. to 4 p.m. in the driving rain. | The track almost disappears in one of the steaming, malarial tropical valleys where vast herds of wild elephants roam between 12,000-ft. mountain ranges. |
The final disaster comes when both jeeps skid down 200-ft. ravine. It is impossible to get up the muddy hill so we have to abandon our jeeps, proceed on foot. | The Naga head-hunters cheerfully help us out on a promise of getting paid in Assam. Communication is hopeless until they recognize name of destination - Ledo. |
I cross an amazing Naga bridge of bamboo. The curse of this trip is the plague of big purple leeches crawling up legs and down collar, leaving running wounds. | Trailed by head-hunter carriers, I come down the homestretch. Here my film gives out so my photographic story ends just before I reach civilization in Assam. |
George Rodger behind bullet-shattered window of jeep he was riding in while photographing action in Burma.
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LIFE Photographer |