Tassie soldiers left a proud legacy of sacrifice and courage that continues to inspire new generations
The story of the “Doomed Battalion” should be remembered for its extraordinary impact on the Pacific War, writes Grant McLachlan.
"Those Tasmanians saved my life," my grandfather would often say, speaking of the 2/40 Infantry Battalion. His Royal Artillery unit had joined Sparrow Force mere days before the Japanese invasion of Timor in February 1942. The way these predominantly Tasmanian soldiers fought earned not just my grandfather’s gratitude, but their Japanese adversaries’ respect as well.
History has a peculiar way of remembering war. We gravitate toward tales of ultimate victory, of flags raised on distant hills, of triumphant returns. The story of the 2/40 Infantry Battalion – sometimes labelled the “Doomed Battalion” – deserves to be remembered not for its eventual fate, but for its extraordinary impact on the Pacific War.
The context of their fight was grim. Just two weeks earlier, more than 300 Australian and Dutch troops had been massacred by Japanese forces in Ambon. Singapore had fallen four days before. Lieutenant Colonel William Leggatt, commanding the 2/40, had every reason to believe Japan didn’t take prisoners. Yet his men stood their ground.
On the same day Japanese forces landed in Timor, their aircraft conducted the first and most devastating raid on Darwin – an attack that would capture headlines and national attention while Sparrow Force fought their desperate battle to the north.
Their mission centred on Penfui airfield near Kupang – the last allied airfield before Australia. While strategically vital, it was defensively vulnerable. The battalion’s strategy was to withdraw into the jungle for a guerrilla campaign if overwhelmed. The Japanese, however, dropped paratroopers to cut off their retreat. In what would become one of the most remarkable episodes of the early Pacific War, Sparrow Force shot many paratroopers as they descended, then fixed bayonets and charged the survivors who had dug in at Usua Ridge.
The Battle of Timor paralleled the Battle of Crete in several crucial ways. Both engagements marked the last time their respective Axis powers would deploy paratroopers in such operations – a testament to the devastating effectiveness of the Allied defence. Those evacuated provided important knowledge for future campaigns.
The ground war against Japan was fundamentally a war of attrition combined with strategic diversionary tactics. The 2/40’s campaign exemplified this strategy’s brutal arithmetic: for the loss of 151 Australians in combat, they inflicted approximately 4,000 Japanese casualties. While most of the column ultimately surrendered, 152 men from the rear echelon managed to break away, joining forces in the east to wage a commando campaign that diverted a Japanese division until the end of the war.
Yet the true cost of the campaign extended far beyond the battlefield. Almost twice as many Australians would die in captivity as in combat, succumbing to illness or drowning. The survivors’ stories paint a harrowing picture of resilience – working on the infamous Burma ‘Death’ Railway, then surviving allied submarine attacks on POW ‘hellships’ bound for Japan. Through it all, the Australian concept of mateship – that deep, unshakeable bond between comrades – sustained them. Men shared their last scraps of food, carried their weakened mates on forced marches, and kept each other’s spirits alive through the darkest days of captivity.
The 2/40’s combat action lasted just five days, from February 19-23, 1942. Every reunion since the war has been held during this anniversary – a testament to how deeply those few days marked these men. The bonds forged in those brutal days and the subsequent years of captivity never broke; the men of the 2/40 remained mates for life, their shared experience creating a brotherhood that transcended the war itself. My grandfather’s sergeant even relocated to Tasmania.
Decades later, veterans travelled hundreds of kilometres to attend reunions, understanding that only their mates could truly comprehend what they had endured together. Their story challenges our tendency toward simple victory narratives. It reminds us that courage isn’t measured by the ultimate outcome of a battle, but by the willingness to stand firm in the face of overwhelming odds, and to stand by your mates no matter the cost.
As our World War II veterans fade into history, we must resist oversimplifying their legacy. The contributions of units like the 2/40 Infantry Battalion – those who fought in the desperate early days, who endured capture and imprisonment, who bought precious time with their sacrifice – form a crucial chapter in our national story. Their legacy isn’t one of doom, but of determination, sacrifice, and unwavering courage that continues to inspire new generations.
Grant McLachlan is a New Zealand based writer whose Scottish grandfather was an anti-aircraft gunner in Sparrow Force, who fought alongside the remarkable men of the 2/40th Infantry Battalion. He interviewed more than 100 veterans for his book Sparrow.