Kohima Read online

  All day the garrison, once their sectors had been taken over, collected in small groups and made their way downhill towards the waiting transport. Many of the jawans of the Assam Regiment, according to Peter Steyn, took a last glance ‘at the battle-scarred hill, festooned with dangling parachutes caught up on blackened and blasted trees, and wondered by what miracle they had been spared’. As Major Yeo walked down the hill with his Indian gunners a Jap gun opened up from G.P.T. Ridge. It is said that Yeo, even at this moment, paused, took out his binoculars on the Ridge to spot the flashes, then wrote a message on his pad for the gunner attached to the Royal Berkshires. This he gave to a runner and, his final duty done, made his way towards the trucks. Even before he’d driven away the 25-pounders from Zubza were opening up and the enemy gun was silenced.

  Of his last hours in Kohima, Richards has written:

  ‘I made my way up the hill for the last time and on to I.G.H. Spur from where I watched the relief going on. Then about four in the afternoon I went down to the bottom of the spur where the trucks were waiting. I’d had a message from Major-General Grover telling me to call at his headquarters…. Up to the night of the i7th-i8th when we lost F.S.D. and Kuki Piquet I had always thought we should be able to hold out and I think this feeling was largely shared. There was certainly no atmosphere of gloom or despondency. After the loss of those positions, however, it was obvious that nothing less than the prompt arrival of the relieving troops could save us.… I have always thought that the tremendous concentration of shell fire put down by the whole of the 2 Div. artillery on Kuki Piquet on the afternoon of the 18th saved us that night. The Japs must have suffered heavy casualties from this…. But regarding the night of the 17th-18th, it seemed to be nothing less than providential that the Jap did not follow up his capture of Kuki Piquet with a further attack on Summerhouse Hill. Had he done so in strength, I think it is almost certain that we should have been overrun….’

  Richards was desperately tired, but at least had the great satisfaction of knowing that he had done his job. The garrison had suffered 600 casualties, but Sato’s losses had been many more; and he had still not taken his objective. By nightfall Richards was away to Dimapur.

  On Kohima Ridge the Royal Berkshires manned their weapon pits at evening stand-to. The first phase of the battle was over.

  1 Non-combatants.

  2 The Japanese soon identified the 2nd Division. ‘It was very strong and very well disciplined,’ Colonel Yamaki records, ‘and we heard that it came from Yorkshire.’ The second observation is interesting: the Divisional sign, the ‘Cross Keys’, was taken from the keys of York, but there were no Yorkshire regiments in the formation.

  3 Indian soldiers.

  6

  Left Hook; Right Hook

  At 1030 hours on 20th April, Slim arrived at Stopford’s headquarters in Jorhat to acquaint him with the political repercussions of the Japanese invasion. Chiang Kai-shek, it appeared, considered that the British ‘had mucked up the Assam campaign and would not play until it was tidied up’. By that he meant that his eleven divisions, now hovering on the northern borders of Burma, would take no part in the campaign. Slim added that Washington—no doubt prompted by ‘Vinegar Joe’ Stilwell—shared Chiang’s views, and were taking the line that ‘the British weren’t even trying to open the Imphal road, as they could supply it easily with the American aircraft on loan’. The result of all this political activity was that Mountbatten was being pressed to get a move on, and he had pressed Sum, who had now arrived to press Stopford. No doubt the question of transport aircraft was mentioned at this meeting, too; the time limit for their return to the Americans was running out and without them Imphal must surrender or starve.

  As it happened, Stopford had sent one of his staff to sit in on Grover’s morning conference and, after Slim had left Jorhat, he arrived to inform Stopford that in his view plans for 2nd Division’s build-up were too slow and methodical. ‘At this rate,’ he said, ‘we shall never capture Kohima.’ Stopford therefore wrote to Grover impressing on him the need for speed, and asked his own chief of staff, Brigadier Wood, to take the letter the following day.

  Meanwhile, two events happened which considerably affected the situation. On the Imphal Plain a copy of Mutaguchi’s order to Sato to send a regiment to Kanglatongbi had been captured and rushed to the translators. Before they could deal with it, however, Carbonnel, the Cameron subaltern, who was still up on Merema Ridge with his patrol, saw a Jap sergeant-major come cycling down from the village with a despatch-case. Some Japs were dug in not far away on the other side of the road, but Carbonnel managed to shoot the sergeant-major, snatch his case, and disappear into cover before a shot was fired, in the case was found a copy of Sato’s operation order and this, too, was rushed to the translators. By 1630 hours they were on the telephone to Stopford, who sent messages to Slim and to Grover. Later that evening Slim came on to say that so much pressure should be exerted at Kohima that Sato couldn’t send troops away. Stopford naturally felt that his letter to John Grover should have taken care of things, but at 2200 hours Brigadier Wood came on the line to say that in his view 2nd Division’s programme was still too slow. So just before midnight Stopford sent off a further signal, repeating the orders of the Army Commander.

  Actually, Grover’s programme, which Stopford’s staff considered too slow, was as follows:

  24th April Clear D.C.’s bungalow

  25th April Put another half-battalion into Kohima

  26th April Clear up F.S.D. area

  27th April First part of relief of Kohima Garrison

  30th April (approx.) Major operations.

  At this stage in time one can only wonder how carefully the staff had observed the ground; in the event, the programme proved wildly optimistic.

  Early on the 21st Grover had given orders to Shapland, commanding 6th Brigade, to start clearing the foothills of Kohima Ridge. And 5th Brigade, under previous orders, were already poised for their move on to Merema Ridge.

  This would obviously be a tricky operation. As Victor Hawkins wrote :

  ‘The country has to be seen to understand the full implications of this task.… And to add to my difficulties I was told that the Brigade would get very little artillery support, if any, and that we were to try and do everything by “infiltration” methods.’

  However, things started off well. Two Cameron companies left Zubza, skirted Bunker Hill, the scene of their first battle, climbed down to the bottom of the valley, then scaled the steep hills at the far side. The journey took four hours and it was hard slogging all the way. When darkness fell, Peter Saunders, the commanding officer, went off with the rest of the battalion and by next morning they were firmly established. Victor Hawkins therefore summoned his ‘O’ Group (which included Jack Stocker, commanding the 7th Worcestershires, and Lieut.-Colonel West, commanding the Lancashire Fusiliers, who had temporarily replaced the Dorsets) and gave orders that the rest of the brigade should follow at 1900 hours on the 22nd. Hawkins didn’t minimize the risks of moving in single file across the enemy’s front. ‘If anything goes wrong,’ he said, ‘we shall catch a packet.’ Then added with a wry laugh: ‘I wonder what they’d say at the Staff College if I suggested a move like this… probably send me back to my unit as unfit for command.’ But if Hawkins was worried, no one else was. The whole brigade had complete faith in their commander; they knew that he was always at his best on an independent show. Perhaps they hadn’t realized the implications of the operation, though they could at least guess the probable lack of comfort. Though the nights were chilly in Assam, no blankets were to be taken, no cookers, no comforts, no messes at all. Just the men, their weapons, such ammunition as they could carry, and a few medical stores. It was hoped that for the first three days the brigade could be maintained by coolie columns, and after that by air-drops.

  There were no questions, and the ‘O’ Group dispersed. During the next few hours the Brigadier kept looking at the sky, which was steadily becom
ing more overcast. He knew that if rain fell his brigade might find itself trapped in the valley.

  In Kohima, the Royal Berkshires were settling down to the unpleasant existence which was to be their lot for some time to come. An officer noted:

  ‘Garrison Hill was conical in shape, with a small flat top. In consequence, the defence posts were sited on the forward slopes where they were exposed to Japanese observation. No one stirred without being shot at, and whenever they moved men ran swiftly from cover to cover.… A tedious agony of nights and days followed. The individual water ration was a pint a day for all purposes. Shaving and washing were forbidden. Some supplies arrived by air; others were delivered, in guarded convoys, to the Morgue [below I.G.H. Spur] from where fatigue parties humped them up the steep slopes of Hospital Hill. It was a dangerous and wearisome business. Throughout the period no one enjoyed more than two consecutive hours’ sleep. The give-and-take of positional warfare continued unabatingly. Mortar and artillery fire were constantly exchanged, and snipers’ bullets flicked everywhere.’

  In short, the physical conditions were no better than those endured by the garrison; and only when the Japanese could be knocked off the surrounding heights would they improve.

  But when would this happen? At 1300 hours on the 21st, Brigadier Wood reached Grover’s headquarters with the Corps Commander’s letter, urging him to get on. While accepting the urgency, Grover tried to point out some of the difficulties: the fact, for example, that the Jap had been able to dig himself in on the high ground for some time. Also that even now the Division’s tail was still arriving, which meant that a large part of his effort was engaged in keeping the road open. He then took Wood forward to look at the ground. Part of Stopford’s impatience—apart from the natural reaction to the pressure exerted by Slim—was his belief that the 2nd Division was faced by only five enemy battalions. The reality, as Grover was well aware, was that a whole division of nine battalions was blocking his path, dug into some of the finest defensive country in the world. A B.B.C. news correspondent arriving about this time was heard to remark: ‘I’d no idea this is what you were up against… I’ve seen nothing like it since Keren.’1

  Early on the following morning (22nd April), Grover went forward to Brigadier Shapland’s headquarters, and gave him verbal orders to launch an attack at once on the D.C.’s bungalow, supported by artillery and mortar fire and tanks. He was also to try and occupy the F.S.D. and clear the Japs from the high ground to the right of the road forward from Jotsoma, known as Shrewsbury. As Shapland bustled off to carry out these orders, a message came through from Stopford saying: ‘Two brigades must be freed for the urgent clearing of the Kohima area. All reasonable risks must be taken as regards road protection.’ Faced with this, Grover decided to send Warren’s brigade back to Zubza and to bring 4th Brigade forward to Jotsoma, where it could hold the defended area and be ready for operations as required. He also gave Victor Hawkins final orders for his move across to Merema. These decisions were communicated to Stopford who agreed them.

  Neither of Shapland’s actions that day was a great success. The Royal Welch Fusiliers attacked Shrewsbury with great spirit, but came under such a heavy fire that they could make little progress, and eventually the commanding officer, Lieut.-Colonel Braithwaite, called off the attack. The assault on the D.C.’s bungalow was carried out by three platoons of the Royal Berkshires, supported by medium tanks of the 149th Regiment R.A.C. and light tanks of the 45th Cavalry. These rounded the I.G.H. Spur, went on past the Jap positions at the road junction beyond the bungalow, then turned the corner and drove down the far side of it. A few yards along the road a drive was cut into the bank, and the object of the tank commander was to negotiate this and get right up to the bungalow. This was to be done—according to the plan worked out with Shapland—before the artillery concentration came down. But things went wrong. The Japs had blocked the road, and by the time the tanks were able to burst through, the guns had already begun firing and shells began bursting all around. Fortunately none of the tanks received a direct hit and not much damage was done, but one tank went over the khud and was lost. Then it was found that the drive up to the bungalow was too steep for the tanks. The Squadron Commander of the 149th R.A.C. was directing operations out of his tank, exposed to heavy fire, and showed very considerable courage. He tried everything he knew to get his tanks on to their objective, but it was no use. They had to content themselves in shooting up some of the smaller bunkers along the road, and the main bunker at the back of the tennis court was left untouched. Despite the mechanism of the attack having obviously gone wrong, the men of the Royal Berkshires still went in. They destroyed four bunkers and all the Japs in them—eight corpses were counted in one bunker alone. But when it became clear that the tanks could not help them with the large bunker at the back of the tennis court they had to give up.

  Learning this news, Grover decided that there should be no more attacks on the D.C.’s bungalow ‘until the area has been thoroughly softened up’. He also asked his C.R.E. to examine the possibility of bulldozing a way up through I.G.H. Spur. As he noted, ‘A single tank on the crest of the hill would completely dominate any position from the D.C.’s bungalow, but the problem is how to get it there.’ It was a problem indeed; and many devices had to be tried and discarded, and many men had to die before it was solved.

  It may be worth mentioning here how the drive up to the D.C.’s bungalow came to be so unmanageable. Charles Pawsey (who arrived in 1922) was the first Deputy-Commissioner at Kohima to own a car, and as there was no drive capable of taking a vehicle up to the bungalow, he got the local Nagas to construct one. As the job had to be paid for out of his own pocket, it was done somewhat roughly, and the corner of the drive, just before it reached the bungalow, was so sharp that even a saloon car could not negotiate it without reversing once. It is extraordinary how, twenty-two years later, this small domestic incident was to prove such an important factor in a great battle.

  At 1900 hours on the 22nd, 5th Brigade moved off for its Merema adventure. An officer wrote in his diary: ‘After dusk the Brigade got under arms and led off down the road in single file. It was dark and cold and no one was very happy. But discipline tells and the troops moved in good order, silently, and with barely a word spoken.’ The Worcestershires were in the van, followed by Victor Hawkins and his tactical headquarters, then the machine-gunners of the Manchester Regiment (a tough, magnificent body of men), the 5th Field Ambulance, then the Lancashire Fusiliers. It was slow, difficult going, even at the start, and then, in the black darkness, the rain came down. Also the guides—like nearly all guides in this campaign—lost their way. Hawkins writes: ‘As a result, at about 10.0 p.m. we found ourselves on a precipitous slope, on very slippery going. Eventually, after one or two men had supped down, I considered that it was impossible to continue on that route in the rain and dark.… I therefore ordered the column to halt and wait till either the rain stopped and we could see something of where we were going, or till daylight.’ At this moment Hawkins and his headquarters were in no little danger, and the only way the men could prevent themselves from going over the cliff was ‘by straddling the trunks of trees’. And there they remained for five hours till the rain stopped and it was possible to see a little. The mental strain on Hawkins at this moment is not difficult to imagine; apart from the Camerons, his whole brigade was strung out along a single track, and if a Jap patrol happened to appear and report his position the whole formation could be destroyed. But even as it grew lighter things didn’t really improve. Taking Ian Thorburn, his brigade-major, with him, Hawkins moved forward to contact the Worcestershires, whom he found lying on the track, waiting for orders to move. Passing them, Hawkins went on to try and find their battalion headquarters, but without guides it was impossible to discern the correct route. However, by four o’clock, when daylight came, Hawkins identified the track and got the brigade moving again. By this time the men were wet, tired, and hungry; but heavily laden they toi
led up the slopes. Time after time they would imagine they’d reached the top, only to find there was a false crest and the jungle-mountain still towered way above them. It wasn’t till eight o’clock that Hawkins joined up with the Camerons and met Peter Saunders. Saunders was astonished to see him at all. He said:

  ‘Didn’t you get my signal, sir? I sent word that it was absolutely impossible to cross that valley by night. We had a hell of a time by daylight.’

  Hawkins smiled wearily. ‘Yes, I got your message, Peter,’ he replied, ‘but after we’d left. And I was damned if I’d turn back then.’

  The rest of the column were struggling in for another four hours. But Hawkins’s reputation for being lucky still held; not a Jap was seen and not a man was lost.

  A mile away the Camerons were already in contact with the Japs near Merema village, and Hawkins went forward to take a quick look at the situation. Then he returned to his own headquarters and, having seen that the brigade was deploying in good order, did as a wise commander should and ‘took the rest of the morning for sleep’.

  While the 5th Brigade were struggling across the Zubza valley, things were hotting up at Kohima. General Sato had decided that before the 138th Regiment left him for Imphal it should join in a final attack on the perimeter. As he probably knew, the Royal Berkshires had now been joined by the Durham Light Infantry, and the longer they were in the position the harder it would be to dislodge them. He therefore laid on a two-pronged attack, three companies from Colonel Fukunaga’s 58th Regiment being ordered to advance through the D.C.’s bungalow area and attack the Royal Berkshires on the northern end of the perimeter, while Captain Watari’s battalion of the 13 8th Regiment hit the Durham Light Infantry, from Kuki Piquet.