HAD they known what was coming their way, the Japanese Army would probably have got out of Burma a lot quicker than they did in 1945.

Because landing behind their lines, in the jungle and at night, was Private Arthur Rollins of the 1st battalion South Staffordshire Regiment and Sally the mule.

As part of the famous fighting Chindits force, the pair helped sabotage the enemy’s communication system, blowing up rail tracks and cutting power supplies.

In reply, the Japanese pounded them with shells and mortar bombs and raked them with machine gun fire, but we all know who won in the end.

This week Arthur, who now lives in the Ronkwood area of Worcester, was one of the stars of an 11-minute film called We Did Our Bit, which had its premier on Monday at the Hive history centre, just before the two minutes’ silence to mark Armistice Day.

Made by film producer Mike Jackson of Splash TV, it recounted, in their own words, the heroics of 11 Second World War veterans from Worcestershire.

As he dribbled his way past defenders down the right wing for table-topping Grimley FC at the end of the 1938/39 season of the Worcester football league, young Arthur Rollins could hardly have imagined what lay round the corner.

Within a few months the factory hand at Royal Worcester Porcelain had been conscripted into the army and given a gun.

Things did not start out particularly well, for he was injured by Italian bombing in the Sudan and then captured by Vichy French in Syria.

His brief spell as a PoW ended when, in his own words, “the guards scarpered” as the Allies advanced.

However they left behind no food, save for the fruit of an adjoining vineyard.

“By the time we were rescued we’d all got diarrhoea,” he added.

Arthur Rollins’ war then moved over to India, where a troop ship dropped him in Bombay.

“My job way to train mules as pack animals, carrying supplies, guns, ammunition and explosives,” he explained.

Although spending his childhood in the countryside at Sinton Green, a few miles west of Worcester, Arthur had never had much to do with horses or similar and the obstinacy of the native Indian mules took some getting used to.

“They were virtually wild, completely untrained,” he said, “and they often just dug their heels in and wouldn’t do what you wanted.

“I found the easiest way was to made a fuss of them and gain their trust.

“The real problems came when we put the carriers on their backs for the first time. Then they’d disappear off bucking and charging about.

“But we had 40 of them and we got them all sorted in the end.”

Arthur’s particular favourite was a yellow/brown mule he called Sally.

“She was a lovely,” he added.

“We got on really well. She’d put her head down and let me stroke her. She was really soft.”

The ultimate destination for the mules was to operate behind Japanese lines in adjoining Burma and they were transported there in a way that would raise the eyebrows of anyone who has ever tried to get a reluctant pony into a horse trailer.

“We had to load the mules up a ramp into a Dakota aircraft,”

Arthur explained. “The plane took four at a time and the handlers had to stand with them throughout the flight.

“They got very nervous, I can tell you.”

Which is hardly surprising when you consider the claustrophobia of the surroundings, the noise, the bumping down the runway and then the movement of the plane as it rose in the air.

Remember also, it was all done at night.

“How the pilot managed to find the landing strip in the jungle at night, let alone land on it, I’ll never know,” he added.

Once safely down on the ground, the mules were unloaded and began their duties as pack animals, carrying all the supplies of war.

“As soldiers our job was to sabotage the railways and communication lines,” said Arthur.

“If the Royal Engineers with us couldn’t dismantle the rail tracks, we would blow them up and do anything else we could to disrupt the enemy.

“All the time they were shelling us with 25-pounders or mortars.”

On one occasion, the Japanese sneaked up on the British camp at dead of night.

“We could hear them, but we couldn’t see them,” said Arthur, “so it was no use aiming guns.

Single bullets were no use. Six of us threw grenades one after another, bang, bang, bang.

“I know we killed several, but they dragged most away. They left one dead one behind and we had to bury him.”

When the Japanese were finally expelled from Burma, the muleteers’ war was over and Arthur and his mates were flown to Calcutta before returning to the UK.

There was no berth on the boat for Sally the mule and she stayed out there. “I often wonder what happened to her,” Arthur said.