‘On no account will anyone retire from their positions if the area gets overrun by the Japanese. If they infiltrate into the position, they will be left and dealt with by the bayonet at the first opportunity. This hill must be held at all costs.’
During the day Hawkins, with the help of Major Ken Daniells of the sappers, began reconnoitring a new route across the Zubza valley for evacuating the wounded and bringing in supplies. The R.A.F. were already coming over, and most of their drops landed inside the perimeter, but nevertheless a mule track was badly needed. Hawkins also had a shave, having found a moment to glance in the mirror to see ‘an old greybeard’ staring at him. Now he understood why the Worcestershires had been grinning at him as they marched in.
Though things were quieter with the flanking brigades, in the centre 6th Brigade fought on to try and achieve what it had failed to do on the 4th April. The Royal Berkshire and the Durham Light Infantry on Garrison Hill and F.S.D. were now so depleted that they had to be merged into a composite battalion, and the 4th/7th Rajputs from 161st Brigade had to be sent forward to reinforce them. During the morning the tanks of 149th Regiment R.A.C. succeeded in rounding the D.C.’s bungalow corner again, and running down the back of the position to get into the F.S.D. Expecting this move, the Japs had erected an elaborate road block, and covered it with mines, and some time elapsed before this was cleared. However, the tanks got into the F.S.D. again and carried out great execution, blowing four machine-guns out of the Water Tank bunker, and destroying some other positions. One Jap who ran out towards the tanks to hurl grenades at them received a shell to himself.
It had been hoped that the tanks had also dealt successfully with the remaining bunkers on Kuki Piquet, so the Royal Welch Fusiliers were launched into the attack again, under cover of mortar smoke. One company worked round the far side of the hill to mop up the snipers, while the other went for Kuki Piquet itself. Here the Jap lay doggo until the attackers had gone past, then began shooting them in the back from some concealed bunkers. It was now evident that the enemy had dug himself in to the lower convex slopes of Garrison Hill, below our forward posts, so that nothing could touch him. As Grover recorded somewhat wryly that night: ‘They certainly are experts at siting defensive positions.’ The Royal Welch Fusiliers lost fifty men, and achieved almost nothing. The battalion casualties including killed, wounded, and missing were already 189, and that figure included eighteen officers. And the Japs were still as strongly entrenched as ever. The battle in the centre was developing into a long nightmare of attrition and death.
The only bright spot in the centre, in fact, was the next set in the tennis court battle, played by the Dorsets. Coming round again in their tank, and mounting the drive to the D.C.’s bungalow, Rhodes and Murrills found that the Japs had profitably spent the previous night in digging a ditch across it. Fortunately, however, it wasn’t quite long enough, and, after some masterly manœuvring, the tank managed to avoid the ditch and drive up towards the tennis court. Again, the men of ‘B’ Company, now under Dick Purser, leapt from the trenches and surged forward to reach the enemy bunkers. Some of them succeeded in getting inside the bungalow, and hunted the Japs from room to room, killing ten of them. But after this things began going wrong; the Lee tank couldn’t find a way up the bank on to the tennis court, nor could it depress its guns sufficiently to deal with a machine-gun post which held up further advance by the infantry. So again, a retreat had to be ordered. This raid, however, like the others before it, increased the Dorsets’ knowledge of the Jap position considerably, and they were still confident that, given time, the battle would be won. But close positional warfare, whether in the Ypres salient or the Kohima perimeter, is a costly business, and the daily wastage through casualties, even though the regiment was not engaged in any major action, was considerable. A reorganization had to be carried out to allow the unit to remain in action.
Just before ten o’clock, Brigadier Wood arrived at John Grover’s headquarters to discuss the situation, before reporting back to the Corps Commander. One of the first things that Grover had to tell him was that he was fast running out of troops, and unless reinforcements could be found it would be impossible to carry on. They then went on to discuss the further operations against the F.S.D., Kuki Piquet and Jail Hill, Grover mentioning that he could not attack the latter till the 9th May, as Stopford had asked him to sort out his battalions into their correct brigades, and this would take a couple of days. The Lancashire Fusiliers, which belonged to 4th Brigade, were now with 5th Brigade; the Dorsetshires, which belonged to the 5th Brigade, were now with the 6th; and 4th Brigade now had only two battalions. During the rapid and complex moves at the beginning of the battle, it had been inevitable that the units should become mixed up; but no one was happy about it. The brigadiers had trained their formations to work as a team, and each brigade had its own character. Hawkins, in particular, was badly missing the Dorsets, and wanted to get them back.
About noon, Brigadier Wood phoned Stopford to give him a resume of the discussions. Stopford accepted Grover’s plan in principle, but absolutely refused to wait another four days for the attack on Jail Hill. On being informed of the reasons for the delay, Stopford announced that Brigadier Loftus Tottenham would be coming forward at once with the remainder of the 33rd Indian Brigade, the 1st Queens and the 4th/15th Punjab. (The other battalion, the 4th/1st Gurkhas, was already on Congress Hill, under command of Brigadier Warren.) These units would provide troops for an attack by the 7th. Despite Grover’s very good reasons for the proposed delay in attacking Jail Hill, and the fact that he did not know till this moment that 33rd Brigade would be coming to his aid, Stopford seems to have considered that his plan showed a want of resolution. He therefore announced that he would be going forward to 2nd Division headquarters that afternoon to see Grover in person. Relationships between Mutaguchi and Satonad already deteriorated; from now on professional relationships between Stopford and Grover were to deteriorate also.
1 From their first day at Kohima the Japanese had appreciated the importance of this position and had occupied it. However, according to Colonel Yamaki, the shelling and air bombing was so devastating that they couldn’t hold it. As he says, ‘the game was to the long cannon’.
9
The Black 7th
As Stopford drove forward on the afternoon of the 5th May, a squadron of Oscars roared down the valley to machine-gun the road. Fortunately an air-raid warning had just been received by the administrative boxes, and the sirens sounded. The troops enjoyed themselves thoroughly putting up a barrage of small-arms fire, and the tracer seemed so thick at times that it was a miracle that the enemy planes weren’t hit. However, as the anti-aircraft fire thickened, they lost formation, then wheeled and flew back towards the east. A few casualties were caused, and some vehicles slightly damaged, but nothing very serious. Probably the raid was a morale-booster for the Japanese infantry, or at least a reminder that their air force still existed.
Once closeted with Grover, Stopford at once began impressing his viewpoint: that the Japs should be given no rest whatsoever. 4th Brigade, he considered, should start ‘infiltrating down G.P.T. Ridge before daylight tomorrow and establish a strong standing patrol on Congress Hill’. The attack on Jail Hill was brought forward to the 7th, and it was to be followed two days later by an operation against Treasury Ridge, also to be carried out by 33rd Brigade. Before he left, Stopford gave Grover some important news, which he had just received by telephone from Slim the previous evening: that Major-General Frank Messervy would be arriving with 7th Indian Division headquarters. He would take over 33rd Brigade (which belonged to his division), 23rd L.R.P. Brigade, which was still operating on the left flank of the 2nd Division, and would also be allotted 268th Indian Brigade, and the Lushai Brigade. The battle could then be fought on a two-division front, as it should have been from the beginning, had the size of the Japanese threat not been so underestimated. Grover received the news with great satisfaction; not only because
the arrival of Frank Messervy would take a great load off his shoulders; but also because with two divisions to administer, the Corps staff would be more fully employed. As things had been so far, with the anomalous situation of a Corps commanding one division and attached troops, Grover felt he had the staff on his neck.
As Stopford left, Loftus Tottenham arrived. According to an officer who knew him well: ‘He was a fine-looking man with a strong and forceful personality. He had a delightful sense of humour and a fund of risqué stories. The moment you met him you realized that he was a commander. He was in no way brilliant, but he was brave and dashing.’ Others have described Loftus Tottenham as ‘a bulldog of a man… tenacious, stubborn’. Later in the battle, these qualities were to be put to a severe test; certainly it was fortunate that such an experienced brigade should be available at this phase of the battle. Raw troops were utterly useless at Kohima. After Tottenham came Warren, who informed Grover that as soon as Bunker Hill had been captured—the feature, it will be remembered, now facing the Royal Norfolk—there would be no difficulty in occupying Congress Hill and so securing the start line for 33rd Brigade. Plans were discussed and reconnaissances arranged. Meanwhile, the situation hinged on Robert Scott and the Royal Norfolk.
During the evening the 1st/1st Punjabs and the 4th/1st Gurkhas pushed forward to make contact with 4th Brigade; rations were taken forward and casualties were brought back. At first the men of the Punjabs objected to being detailed as ‘coolies for British troops’, but when they saw the number of Jap corpses lying about, their attitude changed. They carried the wounded down almost impossible muddy slopes, along tracks cut through virgin jungle. The British troops were filled with admiration for them, and for the way they kept their feet and their balance in the most appalling circumstances, never letting go of the stretchers or overturning them. As Grover noted: ‘No British troops could have done that job.’ This was the first contact in action between the men of the 2nd Division and top-flight Indian troops, and there can be no doubt that it did something towards creating a bond of comradeship.
Having seen the ground, Loftus Tottenham had no illusions as to the task facing his brigade. As he says: ‘We were faced with clearing five or six strongly defended positions…. This filled me with some dismay as, though I knew I could rely 100 per cent on the spirit of the troops, I did not relish the prospect of returning to my Division in a highly mauled condition.’ The brigade had just borne the brunt of the Ngakyedauk Pass battle in the Arakan, and had been promised ‘a good rest in reserve in the Assam Valley’ before being committed to battle again. Medically, the troops had been classified as ‘suffering from malnutrition as the result of the Arakan privations’, and opinion was, that September was the earliest date they could be used again. However, here they were and facing the battle for Jail Hill. Apart from the difficulties of the objective itself, which was now honeycombed with bunkers and devoid of cover, Loftus Tottenham saw that there was a great danger from his right flank where the Jap positions on the reverse slopes of G.P.T. Ridge could shoot up his troops as they went in. He therefore urged John Grover that the flank should be cleared.
The initiative, therefore, lay with 4th Brigade, and, in particular, with Robert Scott and the Royal Norfolk.
All night it rained hard, and water came coursing off the hills. Some of the troops who had taken the precaution of digging channels round their dug-outs found that these were now the size of small rivers. The whole scene was sodden, desolate, and depressing in the extreme. However, the platoons of the Royal Norfolk, which had been detailed for the attack on Bunker Hill, went in as planned, helped by covering fire by the Brens and machine-guns on their northern flank. The general plan was that once the nearest bunker had been captured, the two leading platoons should exploit this success down the flanks. But what hadn’t been realized was that a whole series of linked positions ran down the spine of the ridge towards the road. The left-hand platoon captured the first bunker as planned, but the right-hand one came into heavy machine-gun fire and was pinned down. Captain Randle, the company commander, spotted the position which was causing the trouble, and decided to go for it himself with rifle and bayonet. All that was visible was the narrow slit to the bunker, and Randle ran straight for it. Inevitably he was hit time and again as the Japs opened up on him at point-blank range, but somehow he went on, till he reached the edge of the bunker. Here, in a last act of self-sacrifice, he fell with his body across the slit, temporarily depriving the enemy of their field of fire. This enabled the rest of the platoon to come forward, and soon the bunker had been wiped out. But as it came to be realized, the enemy position extended right down the ridge and in such strength that three platoons could not tackle it, and the action was called off. It had been short, but costly. However, as usual, the dash and bravery shown by all ranks of the Royal Norfolk had been quite remarkable; Randle was awarded the V.C., and two other decorations were won.
The problem was, though, that the remaining bunkers still covered Jail Hill; and it was obvious that before Loftus Tottenham’s men went into action, another attempt must be made to deal with them.
Apart from this action on Bunker Hill, the 6th May was for the most part spent in reconnaissance, administration, bringing forward supplies and ammunition, and an effort to relieve some troops and disentangle others. The Durham Light Infantry were relieved by the Royal Berkshires, and went back to Dimapur for a rest. ‘A’ Company of the Dorsets went down too; and the 4th Rajputs moved into Kohima to strengthen the garrison. The day was also notable for the fact that a staff officer from 33rd Corps, Brigadier Wood, went on to Garrison Hill for the first time to see conditions there. He reported them to be ‘indescribably beastly, with masses of Jap dead and innumerable trenches and dug-outs which make it impossible to know the exact spots occupied by Japs until they should be induced to fire.’ He also observed that these conditions ‘would make mopping-up extremely slow’. Grover, who visited the place again, after an interval of some days, noted, however, that ‘a good deal of clearing up has been done.…’ He took the opportunity to speak to the troops who looked to him very cheery, though ‘they were badly in need of a wash and clean-up. They all have beards.’ Though it was now three weeks since the siege had been lifted, there was such an acute water shortage that washing and shaving were still impossible.
Personal hygiene, in fact, was a great problem all through the battle. In many areas it was even impossible to take off one’s socks and shoes; Colonel Bickford of the Royal Berkshires noted that when his unit was relieved from Garrison Hill he ‘had not loosened his shoe laces for twenty days’. In these circumstances, it was impossible to change pants or vests, usually considered a daily necessity in the tropics, and battle-dresses got caked with mud, sweat, filth, and blood. They also got torn through the constant movement through jungle, but had to be worn till replacements could be brought up, and an opportunity could be found to change. As a result everyone stank. Gradually, one got used to one’s own smell, except occasionally on bending down, but the smell of other people was almost insufferable. It was quite common for officers to meet and talk, both start sniffing suspiciously, then realize that one was as bad as the other. Often it was impossible to deliver toilet paper to the forward troops, which meant that they had to make the best arrangements they could, and as there was no water to wash their hands with after defecating, a steady deterioration in hygienic standards was inevitable. This is not to say that everyone concerned did not make the greatest possible effort to help the troops in this respect; they undoubtedly did. But the circumstances of this battle made all such arrangements very difficult. As the weeks went by and as the flies kept multiplying, dysentery swept through the whole division. Hundreds of men went sick; even more remained on duty, though feeling wretched. From the early days of the battle, a bath unit had set itself up at Zubza, and this proved a boon to the troops whenever they could get back. To increase the bathing accommodation, forty-gallon oil drums were slit in half and serv
ed very well. To see fifty or sixty men all lying back in them, luxuriating in the hot water, and singing their lungs out, was a wonderful sight.
Also at Zubza was a canteen, where the troops could purchase toilet requisites, chocolate, cigarettes, and a limited amount of beer. Some of these stores were sent forward to the men in action, the purchase being initially paid for out of brigade and regimental funds. Even 5th Brigade, supplied by the mule column and the Naga porters, were kept provisioned with canteen materials. Also every tin of rations dropped by the R.A.F. contained cigarettes which were very welcome. Unfortunately, after the drops had been going on for about three weeks, a genius in G.H.Q. India worked out a bill for the total amount of cigarettes dropped, and sent it to 5th Brigade headquarters. Here the staff captain asked Victor Hawkins what he should do about it, to be told: ‘You can tell G.H.Q. that until the Japs have paid for the proportion they’ve got, we shan’t consider paying for ours.’ This reply was sent on and provoked a rather stern document from a gentleman in Delhi. This in turn was sent to John Grover and nothing more was heard; but it was understood that the government had agreed to pay for the cigarettes, both those smoked by our troops and by the enemy.
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