But by the 13th, Sato realized that exhortations were in vain, that defeat was staring him in the face, and that his troops were being slaughtered to no purpose. He therefore signalled Mutaguchi and asked for permission to withdraw, the literal translation of the message running:
‘Because of the heavy rain and starvation there is no time. Decided this Division, accompanying the sick and wounded, should move to a point where it could receive supplies.’
Permission was peremptorily refused, Mutaguchi signalling:
‘It is very difficult to understand that your Division should evacuate under the pretext of difficult supply, forgetting its brilliant services. Maintain the present condition for ten days. Within ten days I shall take Imphal and reward you for your services. A resolute will makes the Gods give way.’
Sato signalled again, pointing out the plight of his troops, the hopelessness of his whole position, but Mutaguchi still would not budge. His new thrust with Tanaka and the 3 3rd Division would settle everything, he maintained; soon the Indian defences at Bishenpur would crack, and his victorious armies would then be pouring on to the Plain. Then Sato could be relieved.
But Sato had no faith in this latest thrust; he did not believe that Tanaka would be any more successful than Yanagida whom he had replaced. Yanagida, of course, was the second general to be relieved during the campaign, Yamauchi having been replaced by Shibata as commander of the 15th Division. Sato had been in close touch with these generals and when the news of their dismissal reached him he burst out angrily before his staff: ‘This is shameful. If Mutaguchi considers himself a knight [i.e. has any chivalry] he should apologize for his own failure to the dead soldiers and the Japanese people. He should not try and put the blame on his subordinates.’ According to some Japanese accounts, Mutaguchi disliked Yamauchi and Yanagida because he considered them ‘pro-American’, or at least thought they were too conscious of the American military potential. When they both displayed their lack of faith in ‘the march on Delhi’, it was inevitable that they would be replaced at the first opportunity. (Both Yamauchi, who had served as Assistant Military Attaché in Washington, and Yanagida were fine linguists. The latter spoke German and Russian as well as English.) According to Takeo Komatsu (The Imphal Tragedy) the dismissal of his fellow divisional commanders released Sato (in his view) ‘from the discipline of Mutaguchi’s command’. This seems doubtful; but there can be little doubt that Sato now considered him untrustworthy in every respect, and realized that his dreams had far outrun his supply system. Nevertheless, Mutaguchi was still the lawful Army Commander, and a lifetime of professional soldiering demanded that his orders should be obeyed, however misguided, however futile, and no matter what the cost. So Sato fought on.
Though his left flank had been turned, and his centre pushed back, it should not be imagined that, from a defensive viewpoint, his position was now a weak one. Far from it: his flanks rested on two almost impregnable positions, Point 5120 at the north and the Aradura Spur at the south. Between these, running in a shallow semi-circle, was a whole series of good defensive positions: Gun Spur, Dyer Hill, Big Tree Hill, and others. And behind them there was Pfuchama, a great natural fortress, poised above the Imphal road. So long as Sato’s men obeyed his order to fight to the death, these positions could hold up the British advance for weeks.
From the British viewpoint, the main hope was that the enemy would now have less and less time to prepare his positions, to dig those great cathedral-like bunkers. It was hoped too that, with his vast losses, morale would crack completely; but this was to prove only largely wishful hoping. As Slim has put it: ‘The second phase of the battle was to be as hard fought as the first. The capacity of the ordinary Japanese soldier to take punishment and his fanatical will to resist were unimpaired.… I know of no army that could have equalled them.’
*
On the 14th there were two positions holding out, forward of what was now the main Japanese position: the remaining bunkers on G.P.T. Ridge, and Treasury Hill, between the D.C.’s bungalow and Naga Village. The Royal Norfolk and the Royal Scots began dealing with the G.P.T. Ridge bunkers, and this time the tanks were able to get up and join them. While one troop blasted the Japs from below, another moved round the back of their position, followed by the infantry. The Japs then opened up from Aradura with a 75-mm. and put over fifteen shells, which fell among the tanks, but did not damage them. This gun, which the troops had seen brought up on the back of an elephant, had been causing a good deal of annoyance. It was sited in a long pit, the back half of which had shell-proof cover; and the Japs’ practice was to run it out, fire a few rounds, and then run it back again, before the 25-pounders could open up. Eventually the 75-mm. sustained a direct hit and was heard of no more. The mopping up went on during the 14th and 15th, and by the end of the time the ridge which had cost so many lives, and so much hardship and suffering, was in 4th Brigade’s hands.
There was one extraordinary incident in this action. Searching one of the bunkers, some men of the Royal Norfolk found five of their regimental cap badges. They were taken to Robert Scott who immediately recognized them as the peace-time issue badges. They’d obviously been taken from men of the Royal Norfolk captured at Singapore. This discovery, providing as it did a link with their fellow soldiers in another battalion of the regiment, had a tremendous effect on the men. Stories of the Japanese treatment of prisoners had already reached them; and they were more eager than ever to take their revenge.
On the night of the 14th, two companies of the 4th/1st Gurkhas infiltrated on to the Treasury. Patrols from other units had reported it to be still held in strength, but no one could remember having been shot at from the position, and the Gurkhas (now commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Derek Horsford) decided to send their own patrols up there. Two came back to report the place deserted, but the third reported a few Japs there. Horsford therefore decided to send a company on to the position, which arrived safely and without meeting much opposition. The only Jap to come out and fight, in fact, was a sergeant of the 124th Regiment, who greeted the Gurkhas with grenades before being severely wounded. By next morning the whole battalion was on the Treasury, and though the Japs started mortaring there were very few casualties. Horsford wrote: ‘The men were first-class; as soon as the shelling stopped, they got straight out of their semi-dug trenches and continued work on the defences.’ When they weren’t digging the Gurkhas were patrolling or laying ambushes, and captured several prisoners. As they were obviously going to spend some time in the position, while the front was reorganized, the battalion made itself comfortable, in the best tradition of the Indian Army. An officer of the unit wrote: ‘Our Mess on Treasury caused great interest to all visitors, as it was almost completely underground. When Chris Nixon’s piano had been installed, even the rain—which had a bad habit of pouring in through the earth roof—could not take away the look of luxury and splendour which the piano gave the Mess. A private of the Queens called Freshwater delivered water to us and took shelter in the Mess when shelling started one morning. His remark in Cockney, when he heard an officer start playing, confirmed our own feeling of uplift: “Cor blimey, I’m in ‘eaven!” Unfortunately, the mortar officer’s persistent efforts to harass the Japs provoked retaliation, and a bomb landed on the Mess roof, damaging the piano, whose dulcet tones no longer graced those barbaric hills.
On the 16th General Stopford went forward to have a look at Kohima. ‘It was exactly like the Somme in 1916,’ he wrote; One could tell how desperate the fighting had been. I am sure that our recent operations have been the biggest offensive show that the Japs have yet had to face… feel very exhilarated by the magnificent show which all battalions have put up.’ But he did not let this exhilaration blind him to reality, and added: ‘There will be much hard fighting ahead.…’
11
The Turning Point
On the 15th May, a brigadier with the formidable name of Michael Alston-Roberts-West walked up on to Naga Village to take command o
f 5th Brigade. He was a tall man with large features and a powerful intellect; and though not everyone liked him they came to admire him as a soldier. He was nine years younger than Hawkins, being just under forty, and the physical strain of action seemed to mean little to him. Somehow, from the beginning, he managed to give the impression that this brigade and this campaign was a minor incident in what was to become a major career; and his interest in people and things would be purely professional. He was an avid reader of newspapers, and once the Observer had arrived would take it to his bunk and be absorbed in it for some hours. On these occasions his staff dared not approach him, except on the most urgent business. He would sometimes become absorbed in the newspapers even after a battle had commenced, though always managing to switch his mind back at an instant’s notice. Despite facets of personality and quirks of idiosyncrasy, there could be no doubt that West was a most professional soldier, and perhaps one of the finest tactical brains to be engaged at Kohima.
The problem facing him was the capture of Church Knoll and Hunter’s Hill, the features from which the Camerons had been driven on that first night. For the last week, the Japanese had been solidly consolidating on them, digging into their terraced sides and constructing bunkers. Victor Hawkins had watched this process closely and day after day had sent out patrols. He also asked Richard Dupont, a subaltern in the Dorsets who was a professional artist, to draw him a detailed panorama and he sent this with his appreciation to Grover. In this he said: ‘I am convinced that it will take a full-scale attack, with at least another brigade and possibly two, to capture these positions, and they will want all the artillery support they can get and even tanks.…’ However, as no further troops were available at this time, it was decided that the Camerons should try and infiltrate on to the positions by night.
To begin with things went well. Two platoons under Neil White and Peter Cameron got a footing on Church Knoll, but then they struck a bunker in which there were five Japs, of whom two were awake and opened fire with a machine-gun. All five Japs were killed, but surprise was lost and the whole position came alive. More machine-guns opened up, a shower of grenades came down from the terraces, one of which set fire to a Naga hut. The flames from this lit up the whole front and tracer bullets streamed from the Jap bunkers. There was nothing for it but to retreat, which the Camerons did, luckily with few casualties.
This failure had an immediate effect; any notions that the battle was nearly over, or that the fighting would be easier from now on, were dissipated. On the morning of the 16th, Grover sent for West, and the situation was discussed on a more realistic basis. The need was for tanks and 6-pounders; and Colonel Garwood, the sapper, was asked to start constructing a track. This he did at once, and two days later the tanks were winched up on to the 5th Brigade perimeter. Observing them, the Jap mortarmen put down some shells, but before long the tanks were in a more sheltered position and preparations for the attack went on again. It was to be carried out by the Worcestershires, on the 19th; one company to capture the forward slope of Church Knoll and another to move round the right of the objective, with its flank guarded by the Carrier platoon. When Church Knoll was in our hands, the other two companies were to pass through and attack Hunter’s Hill. As a preparatory softening up, on the 18th, there was a strike by Hurribombers, which the men on the forward positions found the most frightening thing they’d experienced so far. As Major Elliott wrote: ‘The target was only a hundred and seventy yards away, so the pilots were releasing their bombs right over our heads, which gave us the impression that they would drop into our trenches, instead of swishing low overhead on to the enemy bunkers.’ However, the R.A.F. did its stuff most efficiently, and whatever damage was inflicted on the enemy the Worcestershires remained unscathed. On the following day there was to have been a second air-strike, but the clouds hung low and it had to be called off. The artillery opened fire at 0830 hours, and for some minutes plastered the two hills with shells. At the same time, the tanks opened fire on the bunkers observed on the forward slopes of Church Knoll. Pat Burke, the C.R.A., was with West in his command post, so fire could be directed at will. As the Worcestershires moved into the attack some enemy 75-mm. guns came into action, and though counter-battery shooting soon started they were never entirely silenced the whole day. The leading company of the Worcestershires managed to get within a few feet of the summit of Church Knoll, but here ran into heavy fire. As Elliott writes:
‘The position was terraced, and on each terrace there were two or more Japanese bunker positions, with machine-guns covering the top of the terrace, so that whenever an attempt was made to climb up the five feet in order to rush these bunkers, the men were subjected to a withering fire at very short range. While attacking one bunker, we invariably came under fire from one or two more.’
However, a number of bunkers were destroyed by direct fire from the tanks and the anti-tank guns. It was hoped that the Lifebuoy flamethrowers would destroy others, but their use was limited owing to the short range. However, the men using them showed great gallantry, especially Lieutenant Woodward. He succeeded in knocking out one bunker, and scrambling over the edge of the terrace, ran forward to occupy it. Before he could do so, he was fired at from another bunker, so turned and went for this with a grenade. He was shot dead, but the impetus of his charge carried his body forward so that it fell by the entrance to the bunker. Still the battle went on, hour after hour… when the flamethrowers wouldn’t work pole-charges were tried, and the tanks and the anti-tank guns brought down fire whenever called on. Unfortunately, they could only reach the bunkers on the forward slopes, and as the Worcestershires moved round to the flank they ran into more trouble. Watching the battle from Kuki Piquet, Grover could see the Japs nipping out of bunkers, then running back and disappearing into fresh holes! One Jap ran from his bunker and stood hurling grenades, before being killed.
By three o’clock, by which time the day had turned to mist and rain, it was obvious to West that Church Knoll couldn’t be taken before dark, let alone Hunter’s Hill. Reports from the Worcestershire company commanders had reached him of ‘five mutually supporting bunkers on the reverse slope’ against which they were failing to make progress! At 1530 hours he therefore rang up Grover to discuss the situation. It seemed doubtful whether the troops could maintain their position on the forward slope during the night, so there was no alternative but to withdraw. Grover agreed, but ordered that work should be commenced on a track to get the tanks round to the far side of Church Knoll. At about four o’clock, the artillery put down covering fire, and the Worcestershires came back to Naga Village, having lost forty in killed and wounded. Despite the weight of fire from aircraft, guns and tanks, the Japanese position was still intact.
On the 20th there were further disappointments. Early in the morning, West arrived to tell John Grover that all attempts to find a way forward for the tanks, or to find a possible route for a track, had failed. What he needed was medium artillery, which wasn’t available; so Grover gave orders that the brigade ‘should continue aggressive patrolling and offensive action against any bunkers they can get at, but not to stage any further operation’.
Having been foiled on the left flank, Grover turned his attention to the right, where 4th Brigade were still probing. All patrol reports were indicating that the Japanese position here was a very strong one; and that the enemy was watching every single track. How the division could burst through, it was by no means clear; as Grover noted at this time, two problems were always with him—shortage of troops and the job of finding adequate fire support.
The only encouragement he received at this time was from a rather intelligent prisoner who surrendered voluntarily, unwounded. ‘I have reached the limit of endurance,’ he said. His regiment, he added, was the 58th, and his company was down to forty men. All the officers had been killed or wounded and the company was being commanded by an N.C.O. For some time he’d had only rice and salt to eat, and the shelling was terrible… it had caused a l
ot of casualties. All this was good to hear—but no one expected a flood of deserters to follow.
Like Grover, Stopford had his problems at this time. On the 19th he received a letter from Giffard saying that the 2nd Division might have to be disbanded, to provide drafts for other British units in the 14th Army, owing to the shortage of manpower. Whether Stopford saw this as a first step towards the disbandment of 33rd Corps, it’s not clear, but he certainly viewed the idea with horror, and immediately began working out a plan for obtaining reinforcements. This was sent off to Giffard on the 21st.
On the 23rd, Stopford called Grover and Messervy to a conference to discuss plans for their respective divisions. It had been agreed that the 2nd Division should operate on the right half of the front, 7th Division taking the left, so the two main obstacles now facing them were the Aradura Spur, and Church Knoll with Hunter’s Hill, respectively. Grover proposed to attack Aradura with 4th Brigade and 6th Brigade, one making a frontal assault on the positions running up from the road and the other scaling the high ground towards the village. While this was going on, Messervy was to clear the two features confronting his position in Naga Village and be prepared to advance south on the 1st June.
The first operation to get under way was Messervy’s. The guns of the 5th/22nd Medium Battery, which had just joined the Corps, were pounding Church Knoll, Hunter’s Hill and North Spur, even while the generals were in conference. Nine hundred shells hit these positions in all, with devastating effect. According to A.J. Barker: ‘As the heavy shells crashed down on the bunkers, baulks of timber and other debris were flung into the air. Not only did it appear that the defences had disintegrated and collapsed, but also that no one could possibly survive beneath the wreckage.’ On the 24th and 25th the Hurribombers strafed the area, after a further artillery barrage, and with support from the tanks, the 4th/i5th Punjab (or the ‘28th’ as they liked to call themselves, using their old title) went into the attack. As already indicated, this was a fine regiment with a proud record and traditions; even its junior N.C.O.s had seven or eight years’ service behind them, and the V.C.O.s1 and havildars a good deal more. Arthur Marment says: ‘The plan was for the Khatak Company under myself to attack Church Knoll, whilst Stanley Berens went for Hunter’s Hill. We went through the Queens and crossed the start-line to the second, and immediately encountered very stiff Jap 75-mm. fire. We ran like hares under our own 25-pounder barrage to the nala. I don’t think I have ever got in quite so close under a barrage. The shells were all dropping about ten yards ahead, and of course one eventually dropped short, wounding several men…. Unfortunately my right-hand platoon could not cross the start-line on time owing to the very heavy 77-mm. fire, but with the others I reached the nala and our first attack progressed. It was only unsuccessful when we started to be heavily sniped from our right. However, when the rest of the company came up, and there had been another tank bombardment, we had another go. Once we reached the top, only to be beaten off by heavy fire.’ Eventually, Marment’s company was ordered to retire, having received twenty-three casualties. Berens, on Hunter’s Hill, had had his radio knocked out and so the commanding officer could not contact him. Major ‘Raj’ Fowler therefore volunteered to go forward under heavy fire and to contact Berens, and helped to extricate his men from a very difficult situation.
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