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Journey to the Taukkyan War Cemetery, Myanmar

Posted by on June 9, 2014

This is kind of a personal one for me.

In the Second World War, my grandad’s brother was killed in Burma, and buried there. Now, 70 years later, I happened to be passing through the region and decided to find out where his grave is and to make the journey.

After some research, I found Corporal Ronald Harry Duffield, of the Royal Berkshires’ 1st Batallion, “Son of Harry and Amy Duffield, of Polegate, Sussex” in the roll of honour for Taukkyan War Cemetery. He was there. Plot 17, row J, grave 16.

After the war, Burma entered into a long period of instability and unrest. Taukkyan War Cemetery was created in 1951 by the Commonwealth War Graves Commission to consolidate graves from a number of civil, cantonment and battlefield cemeteries around the country, as well as roadside graves and isolated jungle spots, when it became clear they could not be otherwise looked after. At this point, Ron would have been relocated from a battlefield cemetery in Mandalay.

I was surprised to find that the Taukkyan War Cemetery was the most highly-rated of all “attractions in Yangon (Rangoon)” on TripAdvisor (now second, after the golden Shwedagon Pagoda) but I suppose this could be for a few reasons. Maybe Yangon is completely bereft of things to do, but I now know that this couldn’t be further from the truth. More plausible is that, with the political situation in Myanmar in recent years and the subsequent difficulties for those wanting to travel the country, the majority of foreign tourists were put off, unless of course they had a very good reason…like visiting the grave of a loved one.

Also, it’s not exactly the kind of place you’d give a bad review to, is it?

How to Get to the Taukkyan War Cemetery?

Taukkyan is a township just North of Yangon – less than 20 miles, I think – on the main Pyay Road, PY1.

To get there, I took a local bus from the corner of Anawratha Road and Phone Gyi Street (between 12th and 13th) to the junction of Insein Road and Pyay for 200 Kyat (12 pence) then walked through the local neighbourhood that lies between the two and picked up a lain ka (shared pick-up; songthaew in Thailand and Laos) to Taukkyan for 500.

As with almost everywhere in Myanmar, you’ll get a lot of attention from the locals. Many of the women and even some of the men wore a kind of yellow face paint smeared on their cheeks.

The woman next to me on the cramped pick-up threw up in the heat. When she got off and the driver tried to get me to move up, I just shook my head. Everyone on the bus could see why, but the driver – standing outside – couldn’t see the milky-white vomit. While angrily gesturing to me where I should sit, he ended up putting his hand in it. Then he understood.

When you arrive in Taukkyan, don’t do what I did, which, when I couldn’t see any sign of the cemetery, was to ask directions from a taxi driver, who said (as they all do in these parts) that he knew where it was and could take me for 1000. He drove me (in his non-air-conditioned cab, sporadically hocking and spitting blood-red liquid into a rancid-smelling plastic bottle filled with what looked like melted chocolate, but was actually the remains of chewing tobacco or tea leaves) out into the countryside – through a toll booth – for half an hour or so, at which point I was getting pretty skeptical and asked again. He assured me that, yes, he knew where it was, only to pull over two minutes down the road to make some calls. He eventually put me on the phone to someone and what followed was a series of exchanges to the effect of:

“What? Where? We don’t know what that place is.”

And then when they did figure it out:

“Oh, my friend has made a mistake. It is actually the other way…very far. You will have to pay him 20,000 Kyat to take you there.”

He wanted 10,000 just to go back and, when I said no, tried to leave me in the middle of nowhere to find another ride. I refused to get out of the car until he took me back to where he’d picked me up – prepared to trash his cab and come to blows if necessary – and thus followed a tense, silent, 40 minute drive back the way we’d come.

When we got back to Taukkyan, I asked to be dropped off immediately, but he insisted on driving me another 30 seconds round the corner, where the cemetery miraculously came into view. I realised it was almost certainly a scam. He’d known exactly where it was the whole time.

He asked for 8000, then 5000. I gave him what I’d seen him hand over for tolls and a meager estimate for fuel and I told him to fuck off.

So, anyway, the cemetery is directly next to the village, just back on the road from Yangon, on the right as you come in. I’d have seen it on the way, but for the packed pick-up and the fact that I’d been sitting on the left-hand side.

I don’t want to leave anyone with the impression that Burmese people are dicks. They’re lovely. He was the only one.

The Cemetery

The cemetery is such a peaceful place and so incredibly well-maintained that it seems to be a favoured hangout for the locals. One or two families picnicked in the grass, couples lounged romantically amongst the graves and children played nearby. At least Ron has plenty of company, I thought.

Their Name Liveth for Evermore inscription at Taukkyan War Cemetery

Entering the cemetery…

The land on which this cemetery stands is the gift of the Burmese people for the perpetual resting place of the sailors soldiers and airmen who are honoured here

The cemetery is a gift from the Burmese people and maintained by the War Graves Commission

Taukkyan War Cemetery and Rangoon Memorial, Yangon, Myanmar

Taukkyan War Cemetery: a tranquil resting place.

Hedge tunnel at Taukkyan War Cemetery, Myanmar

Strolling the well-maintained and peaceful grounds

One kid came up to me and asked if he could have some water. (I was carrying the last of a 5 litre container.) I downed all I needed and gave him the bottle with the rest. He thanked me and ran off with it, content.

Later his friends came up to me and apologised for him, saying he was crazy sometimes.

“No problem.”

Taukkyan is the biggest of the three war cemeteries in Myanmar. It is currently home to:

  • 6,374 Commonwealth graves from World War Two (867 of which are unidentified)
  • 52 from World War One
  • The “Rangoon Memorial” to almost 27,000 with no known grave
  • The “Taukkyan Cremation Memorial” for over 1,000 servicemen who were cremated according to their faith
  • The “Taukkyan Memorial” for 45 whose graves couldn’t be maintained
A soldier of the 1939 - 1945 war, known unto God grave inscription at Taukkyan War Cemetery

Taukkyan houses 867 unidentified graves.

Rangoon Cremation Memorial, Taukkyan, Myanmar

The Rangoon Cremation Memorial

The Rangoon Memorial at Taukkyan War Cemetery, Myanmar

The Rangoon Memorial

Rangoon Memorial register at Taukkyan War Cemetery

The Rangoon Memorial register found in a safe built into the rock

The Rangoon Memorial at Taukkyan War Cemetery, Myanmar

The Rangoon Memorial pillars, with over 27,000 names inscribed

I located the plot and, as I grew close, had to gulp down the suspense that seemed to gather in my throat.

Plot 17 row J grave 16 at Taukkyan War Cemetery

Locating plot 17, row J

I’m not usually effected by sentimental things like this, but as I reached the grave I couldn’t help but feel something.

I took off my shoes and socks as a mark of respect (as is the custom here in Myanmar and other Asian nations) and sat in the soft grass beside the grave.

Ron's grave at Taukkyan War Cemetery

Somehow Ron had got the nicest flowers on the plot.

Here I was, less than six feet from a man I’d never met but who’d shared my blood and had known my grandad in his youth just as I’ve known my grandad in my youth…six decades later.

I should have been more moved than I was, but it’s hard to feel sad in such a pleasant setting. All things considered, Ron has found an ideal resting place in the end.

Grave of Corporal Ronald Harry Duffield, Royal Berkshires, First Battalion at Taukkyan War Cemetery, Burma

Ron’s grave. Eerily only one initial different from mine.

Ron & Pa

I don’t know much about my great-uncle Ron. I do know that they grew up together in London’s East End and that my grandad, Pa, once threw sticky orange juice down Ron’s back while he was driving, then the war broke out, and he never got the chance to apologise. Ever since then, he and Hen (my grandma) have lived by a “no regrets” rule – any dispute is resolved that day before bed, no ill-feeling is allowed to continue into another day (because you never know if you’ll get one) – and that’s the system by which they raised their three boys (my dad and uncles) and which I believe has filtered through to me.

Pa never saw his brother again.

One night, when stationed somewhere and put on night watch duty, he happened to take a look at the roster and see that his brother had been there just the night before.

Ron was killed in the battle of Fort Dufferin, on 15th March 1945, just a few months before the end of the war.

He was 24 – two years younger than I am now.

Mandalay Palace (formerly Fort Dufferin), Mandalay

Mandalay Palace (originally Mya Nan San Kyaw (meaning “the Famed, Royal, Emerald Palace”) and renamed Fort Dufferin under British rule) was built in Mandalay by King Mindon when he founded Mandalay in 1857.

yangon-bagan-mandalay-inle-lake-myanmar-burma 048

The plan of Mandalay Palace prior to the Second World War

It served as the royal residence of Mindon, and later King Thibaw – the last two kings of Burma – until the Third Anglo-Burmese War, when the British took control of Burma, captured the royal family and renamed the palace Fort Dufferin.

The Battle for Fort Dufferin, Mandalay, Burma, 1945

The Battle for Fort Dufferin. Source:

The palace was almost completely destroyed in the war, with the exception of only the watchtower and the royal mint (the birthplace of the first Burmese coin and used as a bakery for British troops). It was rebuilt in the ’90s and I was lucky enough to visit while in Mandalay.

The Watchtower - one of only two buildings to survive allied bombing

The Watchtower…

Fort Dufferin Watchtower, Mandalay Palace

…One of only two buildings to survive allied bombing

Steps ascending Mandalay Palace watchtower

View of Mandalay Palace while ascending the watchtower

View from Fort Dufferin watchtower, Mandalay Palace

“All along the watchtower…”

Mandalay Palace panorama

A panorama of Mandalay Palace

Old photo of Burmese princess

A surviving photo of one of the Burmese princesses, prior to British rule

Ancient Burmese script carved in stone

Sorry if this is upside-down – my ancient Burmese script isn’t what it used to be.

Mandalay Palace grounds empty

Strolling the ghost-town that was once Mandalay Palace

Inside dark empty rooms in Mandalay Palace

Walking through dark, empty rooms, once residence to the King and Queen

Burmese King Thibaw and Queen at Mandalay Palace, Myanmar

Ghosts? The last King and Queen of Burma stroll their palace grounds.

A Happy Ending

After the war, Pa stepped off a train in Polegate – a small town in the South East of England, that he’d never been to or even heard of before, but where his family had moved while he was at war in North Africa, the Balkans, Brindisi… – and here he met Hen, started the family I grew up with and they’re still there today, happily married.

12 Responses to Journey to the Taukkyan War Cemetery, Myanmar

  1. Tone

    Great stuff Roy. Superbly written. Your Grandpa will love it. Incidently, thanks to you he has been able to obtain his brothers war medals and they should arrive in the post shortly.

  2. Jim

    Hi Roy,what a nice story,its a shame about the knob head drivers,do they think we are stupid,i had to laugh even a hardened traveller like youself can get caught out.
    I am moved reading this post,you are on the other side of the world and you come across a long lost member of your family resting in such a lovely place,seeing your name Duffield must have been a bit moving,i know you say you aint that type,i’m not either but some things hit the mark and the emotions take over,it’s nice to see such a well kept place in such a far flung place in the world.

  3. Tone

    Roy you need to update your Drinking Traveller profile…its 70+ countries now….oh and Ron’s medals have arrived & your Grandpa is getting them mounted & framed to hang them on the wall.

  4. Nessa

    Hey Roy, that’s an awesome post you have got there. I haven’t got any relatives who died in the fightings during the war, but it certainly is very close to my heart. Can’t imagine it’s just been a few decades since then. Anyway, I might need some help on the opening hours of the war memorial, I googled and there’s 4 different websites showing 4 different sets of opening hours and days that differ from each other.. Have you got any clue? Thanks mate for your help.


    • Roy Duffield

      Hi Nessa, I don’t know the exact opening times but there’s no gate or anything, so I’m assuming as long as it’s daytime you can go in. If you do find out, let me know and I’ll add them to the post :)

  5. Meegie

    Thanks, Roy, for a lovely post on the Taukkyan War Cemetery in Burma. Your description is moving and inspirational. I have a trip to Burma planned for next January, and will visit the memorial where a relative’s name is inscribed. I remember him as a schoolboy

  6. Graham Barnard

    Roy your missive about your trip to Burma was delightful, thanks for writing it.

    My Dad is there resting in peace after he lost his life in 1944 November 23rd. I never met him or he me, though he would have done but for the fact he gave up his R and R to another who had problems back in UK. Three weeks after his death his new Repat papers arrived but too late. Killed by “tree burst” while directing the guns against the Japs. I know this as have had confirmation from Colonel Gould who was there at the time.

    I visited Dad’s grave some 18 years ago and must confess to great emotion after the anticipation of standing as you say, just six feet from my father.

    The cemetery is wonderful and so well-tended and I hope it remains so.

    I also visited the cemetary in Rangoon as it then was, which contains many graves of airmen who were captured and killed in Rangoon Jail, a brutal place run by Jap sadists.

    I would love to return but very expensive now, even via the Royal British legion who arranged our trip.

    I live just 10 minutes from Polegate in East Sussex and if anyone wants to contact then they may via

    Sincerely and fraternally,
    Graham Barnard

    • Roy

      Hi Graham, apologies for the delay in getting back to you. Thank you so much for reading and for sharing your own story. I’m not usually the sentimental type but I must admit I’m extremely moved. And how strange that you’re also in East Sussex, where most of my family is still based!

  7. Peter Daigneault

    Wow Roy

    Such a great thing you have done. My mum Doris was Len’s sister. She would have been so proud to see Ron’s final resting place.

    Your story means such a lot to me and my brother John!

    Thank you so much.


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