by Fergal Keane
From dawn on 3 April patrols were sent out from Kohima, but there was no sign of the Japanese until 1600 hours, when some were spotted working round to the right flank of GPT Ridge. The defenders here were a mix of 1st Assam, a composite Indian infantry company, a Gurkha company and some V Force. The rain of the past few days had gone and a bright moon lit the landscape beyond the trenches; anybody attempting a frontal assault would be spotted early on.
Men did their best to sleep. The only noise came from the work parties still trying to improve the dugouts. At 2000 hours a Japanese sniper fired shots over the position. What followed appalled the 1st Assam commander, as the war diary recorded: ‘The immediate result of this was that almost every L.M.G. [Light Machine Gun] and rifle in the position opened up and fired wildly in every direction for about an hour. Complete lack of fire control and discipline and troops obviously shaken.’ Several soldiers were wounded by the firing of their comrades. To make matters worse, a platoon of the Shere Regiment came galloping through the position at 2045 hours, fleeing from some Japanese who, they claimed, had attacked their post. Their lack of steadiness was to cost the garrison dearly. Wild firing at real or imagined threats is known as ‘starting-gun’ syndrome: a man who is frightened, but not trained in fire discipline, will open fire, sparking general mayhem. To a disciplined enemy it is a gift. All they need do is carefully to spot the muzzle flashes and they will be given a clear picture of the defences. The Japanese were nothing if not diligent in this regard. Captain Walter Greenwood, a staff officer with the garrison, gave a stark assessment of the difficulties facing Richards: ‘The difficulty of controlling a body of men consisting of perhaps 10 infanteers, 50 RIASC drivers, mule-drivers, a few signallers, pioneers, sappers and miners, etc., with no officer and perhaps no senior NCOs has to be experienced to be believed, and it is remarkable that there were not very many casualties through our own fire.’
The following day, 4 April, the Japanese offered something more than sniper fire. At 1600 hours they opened up with mortars and machine guns on the GPT Ridge position. It was not a heavy bombardment – most likely these early arrivals were simply probing the defence – but it drew another exasperating and, for Hugh Richards, profoundly worrying response from the defenders. ‘This was answered by our own troops again [firing] wildly and in all directions for most of the night and was only stopped by B.O.s [British officers] going round positions.’
On GPT Ridge a potential disaster was unfolding. Troops were starting to abandon their positions. By 2300 hours, the 1st Assam’s war diary records, a platoon of Sikhs, a mortar detachment of the Shere Regiment, a mixed infantry company, and a number of Indian officers had abandoned their trenches. ‘These positions were in the centre of the defences. These officers and men were not seen again,’ the diary records. In one episode a Sikh officer reported that 120 of his 140 men had bolted. This, in turn, exposed a Gurkha company to enfilading fire. When the order to send in the reserve was given, the word came back that a commander and his forty men ‘could not be found’. It was later discovered that these men, too, had vanished. The panicked soldiers were making for Dimapur as fast as they could run. Further back on Supply Hill and Kuki Piquet, officers stepped forward with pistols drawn to stop the fleeing men from crowding their trenches.
The men who remained could hear Japanese and Indian voices shouting at them to surrender. The propagandists of Bose’s Indian National Army were at work and Lieutenant Bruce Hayllar, commanding a composite group of Indian troops, found them frightening.* ‘Sometimes they would shout to our soldiers, “Kill your officers.” If it was your own men you could be sure of them. But I was put in charge of people I had never seen before … It was a horrible situation.’ Hayllar threatened to shoot wavering men. They in turn threatened to shoot him. His bluff worked. There was no shooting and the majority stayed loyal. Early on 5 April, Hugh Richards was alerted to an unusual sighting on the track at the other end of the perimeter from Jail Hill. It was around 0200 hours and there were flickering lights to be seen moving towards the Naga Village across the valley. The number of lights indicated an enemy force much larger than that which was probing the defences of GPT Ridge at the other end. There was a company of the notoriously jumpy Shere Regiment on picqet duty at the Naga Village and Richards can have had few illusions about what would occur when the flickering lights materialised into enemy soldiers.
* * *
* Jessami also lay outside the administrative reach of the Naga Hills and barbed wire was allowed.
* A company of 1/1 Punjab from 161 Brigade was sent to try and relieve the Assam Regiment at Kharasom. It clashed with the Japanese and the Indians lost seven men killed and fifteen wounded and killed fifty Japanese, but were unable to break through to the beleaguered Assam troops. Another battalion from 161 Brigade, the 4/7 Rajput, also attempted unsuccessfully to break through to the defenders of Jessami.
* Richards gave conflicting accounts of the dates. In a speech to an Assam Regiment dinner in London in 1962 he placed his meeting with Warren and Ranking as taking place on 28 March. In a typed draft of his account of Kohima sent to Arthur Swinson he again gives 28 March as the date. But in another typed draft he places the meeting on 29 March. The official records agree that it took place on 29 March. The discrepancy may have been due to a lapse in memory concerning events that had taken place some eighteen years earlier.
* Interrogated after the war, Lieutenant Colonel Iwaichi Fujiwara gave a figure of only fourteen Japanese dead at Kharasom. This conflicts with British accounts of substantial numbers of corpses and, given the Japanese propensity for costly frontal assaults, seems unlikely. See NA, WO 203/6324.
* A British campaigner, Roy McCallum, pursued the Ministry of Defence on the question as late as 2009 but was told that the case would not be reopened. Young could not have been put forward for a Victoria Cross as his final actions were not witnessed; however, it would have been possible for him to have been mentioned in dispatches.
* The ‘Japanese force’ spotted by the RAF turned out to have been a party of labourers going home.
* In his diary Stopford writes of Slim ‘eventually accept[ing]’ his argument, suggesting a prolonged debate. IWM, Swinson Papers, Diary of General Montagu North Stopford, 1 April 1944. After the war, Slim blamed Ranking for the decision that he and Stopford had taken. Acknowledging that 161 Brigade should have been kept at Kohima, where it could have delayed the Japanese advance by ‘several days’, Slim went on to write that ‘Ranking’s order to withdraw was influenced understandably by the stress I laid on his primary task – the defence of the Dimapur base … the withdrawal … was an unfortunate mistake.’ Field Marshal Lord Slim, Defeat into Victory (Cassell, 1956), p. 310. But Ranking was not ‘influenced’, he was following clear orders. Nor does Slim’s book make any mention of Ranking’s urgent telephone call after his return from meeting Warren, Richards and Pawsey in Kohima. Stopford attempted to set the record straight later on. Writing to Arthur Swinson in 1965, nearly a decade after Slim’s account had been published, he said, ‘it is most unfair that Ranking should have been blamed for it … if blame is attached to anyone it should be me … probably I was overanxious about the likelihood of Japanese infiltration.’ Letter of Lieutenant General Montagu Stopford to Arthur Swinson, 3 May 1965.
* On 3 April he moved his command post from Pawsey’s bungalow to the less comfortable but less exposed surroundings of a bunker roughly halfway up the slopes of Garrison Hill.
* One division of the Indian National Army, an estimated 7,000 men, joined Mutaguchi’s advance towards Imphal. The INA soldiers encountered at Kohima probably belonged to small groups attached to 31st division for propaganda purposes. The INA suffered heavy casualties on the retreat from India and troops complained bitterly of being used as porters by the Japanese.
FIFTEEN
Siege
After Sangshak, Miyazaki drove them even harder. There was time to be made up. The supply officer Lieutenant Masao Hirakubo
felt tougher now. He could keep pace on the all-night marches. But he still hated the mud of the jungle tracks and the endless leeches dropping into his clothes. Now, as he emerged from the jungle, his feet were marching on asphalt. There was something beautiful about the feeling of the road underfoot. The soldiers felt lighter, listening to the sounds of their comrades scuffing along beside them. The 1st battalion had gone ahead of them and cleared the opposition away, ambushing some British who were having lunch at a hilltop village. The surprised defenders were shot at and attacked with grenades where they sat.
Hirakubo was told to stay behind with three others and gather food from the villagers. His battalion commander was terse. ‘He told me that in one day we arrive at Kohima and everybody’s rice will be gone.’ The local chief was told to produce a large consignment of rice for purchase by four in the afternoon. The Japanese were lounging in the shade of a basha when they heard aircraft approaching; two British planes flew around the village twice and then disappeared. ‘Has it ever happened in the past?’ Hirakubo asked a villager. The man said no. At four, people began to pile rice in the middle of the village. Standing with his bag of Indian currency, Hirakubo paid a rupee for each bag of rice. Then suddenly the planes reappeared. This time they came straight in for the attack. There were four of them, machine-gunning and bombing. Village houses erupted in flames and people ran screaming in all directions. By nightfall the village was an empty, smouldering ruin. But the rice had not been damaged. Twenty men were recruited from a neighbouring village to carry the vital food to Kohima.
A captured notebook belonging to a Major Yamaguchi, a staff officer with the 31st Division, painted an interesting picture of relations with the local Nagas. For Miyazaki’s 58th Regiment, ‘the attitude of local inhabitants was favourable, because it was strictly laid down that no troops except administrative personnel specially detailed were to go into villages. Purchase of food was easy.’ This is disingenuous. The Nagas had little choice when confronted with heavily armed Japanese, who would have seized the food had it not been given up. The major’s notebook noted mournfully that the ‘purchase of food became more and more difficult as the villages were abandoned owing to our artillery fire’. Even Charles Pawsey acknowledged that the Japanese behaved comparatively well at this stage. ‘In some cases the first thing the Naga knew was their village was full of Japs when they woke up in the morning,’ he wrote. ‘The Japs did not treat the local population badly to start with. They wanted to win them over, to make them supply rations to help the invasion.’ A twelve-year-old boy, B. K. Sachu Angami, from Kohima, met Japanese who ‘did not behave like strangers. They came and talked to the villagers as brothers. They said to us “we are from the same race.” Of course we were also afraid of them when they came. But they were so friendly that the fear slowly went away.’ A note sent to Pawsey by ‘Levi’, the head clerk of Khonoma village, reported the ‘behaviour of the Japs in this area was not so cruel as expected. Their dealings with women and children were fairly good.’ However, villagers who protested against the taking of cattle and rice were assaulted and men at Khonoma were forced to act as labour for the Japanese. Miekonu Angami was a thirty-two-year-old farmer and hunter recruited into Japanese service at Khonoma. His recollection is of being ordered to carry ammunition and food supplies towards Aradura Spur and its bigger neighbour Mount Pulebadze, where the Japanese had first engaged Lieutenant Bruce Hayllar and his patrol. ‘On the first day they gave us no food. We stayed a few days but still we got no food. The only supply we could get was from villagers there. When there was no food coming we left and came back to Khonoma.’ Soon he would volunteer his services to the British.
In spite of the delay at Sangshak, the 58th Regiment was still the first to arrive at Kohima. The other 31st Division formations were also moving rapidly towards Kohima. General Sato himself arrived within a day of Miyazaki and set up his headquarters in the jungle about four miles behind the front line. It was a spartan affair, made of bamboo poles and leaves, camouflaged to blend in with the jungle and avoid the eyes of the RAF, but within earshot of a river, the soothing noise of which was like the waterway where the general fished near his home in Amarume.
For Sato’s boss, Lieutenant-General Mutaguchi, Kohima offered the potential of breakthrough in an offensive that was elsewhere grinding towards attrition in the face of determined defence. The 4th Corps had recovered from the crisis caused by the late orders to withdraw towards the Imphal Plain. The 33rd Division commander, General Yanagida, cloaked in pessimism, recommended to Mutaguchi that the battle be abandoned. ‘My goodness, I was troubled,’ Mutaguchi wrote. ‘Yanagida thought, “this is not good” and became a bit weak-kneed, saying that, “it was impossible to go all the way to Imphal with so little preparation.” The momentum to progress was completely killed.’
The intelligence officer Lieutenant Colonel Iwaichi Fujiwara, who observed the crisis at 33rd Division headquarters, remembered the course of events differently. General Yanagida needed more artillery, tanks and ammunition as his men battered away at the British and Indian forces. When the required supplies were not forthcoming, there were ‘exchanges of violent and angry signals … great ill feeling between the Army commander and the Division Commander’.
The 15th Division, under its ailing commander Lieutenant General Yamauchi, fought past Sangshak and succeeded in cutting the road to Imphal on 29 March. Another column took up position in the mountains overlooking the British headquarters at Imphal. The garrison was now cut off by land, but the same airlift that had brought the West Kents to Dimapur was also flying troops and supplies into Imphal. What surprised the Japanese was not only the material superiority of the British and Indian forces, but their fighting quality. The scared soldiers of the first Arakan campaign were gone; in their place were men whose determination to resist was as fierce as that of the Japanese themselves.
With the Imphal operation stumbling, Mutaguchi waited anxiously for good news from Kohima.
Lieutenant Naoji Kobayashi of 11 company, 58th Regiment, led the first platoon. They could see the Naga Village on the edge of Kohima, but dawn was about to break and the men were exhausted. The order was given to sleep. Kobayashi was tense and unable to rest. As the light came up, he saw figures moving on the hill opposite. ‘It was the enemy all right. But they seemed to be unaware of our presence.’ He roused his men. Word was sent to the other platoon commanders in the company. The whisper to get ready ran like an electric current through the dozing men. They were to prepare to attack. Only a handful of Nagas had remained behind in the village. Twelve-year-old B. K. Sachu Angami saw Kobayashi arrive. ‘When he came to the gate of the village he said, “Open it, Kobayashi has come.” Out of fear the old people near the gate opened it and let the Japanese enter the village. After that they started asking, “Did you see the Gurkhali?” That was all they asked, not about the Britishers.’ The troops’ uniforms were covered in grass camouflage and they came from all directions, he remembered. Another villager, Rushukhrie Angami, looked out of his home to see two Japanese attempting to disguise themselves in Naga shawls. They then surprised and killed two sentries from the Shere Regiment. These unknown Nepalis were the first casualties of the siege of Kohima.
Khumbo Angami, a teacher at the government high school, witnessed the same incident. ‘I saw one of the Japanese shoot and kill two Gurkhas with one shot, because these two Gurkhas were standing quite close together each one facing the opposite side.’ Angami was nearly shot himself because he wore khaki trousers and militaryissue boots. He immediately ran to his uncle’s house and changed into Naga dress. Later that morning he encountered several Indians in military dress. They were officers of the Indian National Army who had advanced with the Japanese to spread propaganda in the villages. ‘But these Indian soldiers said they were fighting for the side of the Japanese, they also showed us Indian national flag and some badges. I therefore told them they must not be so “nimok haram”, that is “so ungrateful”, because they
were wearing British uniforms and had British arms and all they have belongs to the British. When they heard these words from me one of them got angry and said, “Do you know what English people are doing for us? The English people are taking away all good things from us. The world knows that India is one [of the] richest countries” … I told them there will never be peace if the Indians rule … the Indians hate our hill people and Indians are always after our women folks.’
Another Shere Regiment soldier was wounded in the knee but pulled a sackcloth over himself and played dead. When night came he crawled to the house of an old Naga woman, who sheltered him. He was eventually discovered by the Japanese, who tried to bayonet him. But the old woman stood in their way, saying he was her son.
At 0900 hours a party of Shere troops came down to the village to draw rations, happily unaware of the presence of hundreds of Japanese soldiers. They were immediately set upon and taken prisoner. Panic spread as the villagers realised what was happening. A visiting Indian missionary and his daughter escaped only by dressing up as servants. Hunger was overcoming the restraint toward civilians noted at other villages. Rushukhrie Angami saw them killing pigs and fowl, ‘and if the owners tried to resist they threatened to stab with their bayonets or shoot with rifles’. They moved from house to house, searching for valuables ‘and snatched away whatever money, and precious jewels found on the bodies of the people’.
Some of the Kohima Nagas were forced to carry their own rice to other villages where Japanese troops were based. This amounted to humiliation in front of other tribes, something no self-respecting warrior could easily forgive. According to Rushukhrie, the marches took as long as nine days, without any food, prompting the Kohima Nagas to pronounce a curse on the Japanese. ‘Under this brutal treatment every man and woman uttered in low voice the words, “We will pay you in your own coin when our British will come back.”’