Kohima

by Arthur Swinson

  On the 2nd April 33rd Corps headquarters opened at Jorhat and General Stopford assumed command of all troops in the Assam and Surma valleys. The tasks given him by Slim were: to prevent enemy penetration into those areas, to keep open the line of communications between Dimapur and Kohima, and to be prepared to move to the assistance of 4th Corps and help in all possible ways to destroy the Japanese forces west of the Chindwin. The speed with which these tasks could be accomplished depended very much on the speed with which his troops could be concentrated. Stopford’s estimation was that by mid-April he would have the whole 2nd Division, 161st Brigade, 33rd Brigade (from 7th Indian Division), the Lushai Brigade, a regiment of armoured cars, a squadron of light tanks, and possibly a squadron of medium tanks. But the next ten days or so, while these units trundled over the ramshackle railway system of north-eastern India, were going to be anxious ones. As to the enemy, Stopford’s information was that two regiments only were moving on Kohima, the 124th Regiment (which was moving at the rear of the Main Column) having been ‘lost’ by the Intelligence. What he was afraid of was that the lost regiment would move via Layshi into the Assam Valley, with Gologhat and Mariani as its objectives.

  Meanwhile, another problem was raising its head. The 2nd Division was heavily mechanized and unequipped for fighting in mountainous country. Unless it were to be tied to the road during its advance towards Imphal, which would make tactical movement impossible, it would have to be found mule transport and instructed in its use. An urgent signal, therefore went to 14th Army for mule companies, though whether they could be spared seemed very doubtful.

  Mountbatten, however, had good news this day. A signal from the Chiefs of Staff informed him that from Britain and the Mediterranean he would soon be receiving a total of ninety-nine transport aircraft. These would enable him to supply 4th Corps in Imphal by air, as planned—though not indefinitely. The signal added that seventy-nine of the aircraft must go back by the middle of May, as they were required for an operation in Italy.

  In the afternoon of the 3rd April, there was a conference at Jorhat attended by Mountbatten, Slim, Stopford, and other commanders. Slim outlined the situation at Dimapur and Kohima, and said the latter must be held if possible, ‘since it would be hard to recapture, and its loss would undermine Naga loyalty’. He added that he had told Stopford to reinforce the garrison, ‘as soon as he could do so without endangering the safety of Dimapur’. Exactly when that moment would come, it was still impossible to say.

  While the higher command was meeting at Jorhat, ‘Bruno’ Brown and a party of survivors from Jessami were climbing up the slope of Garrison Hill at Kohima, to report to Richards’ headquarters. They were tired and foot-sore, but each man carried his weapon and was determined to fight on. The urgency of the situation precluded any courtesies, or any rest, and before long the troops were at their allotted sectors on the perimeter and hard at work improving them. Before dark, other small groups of men came streaming in, both from Jessami and Kharasom, some with officers and some without. Fortunately the Assam Rifles’ Quartermaster was on hand to replace torn or blood-matted clothing and issue items of personal kit. He also saw to it that the men were fed. By the time the last stragglers had reported, 260 officers and men of the Regiment were available to help in the fight, some indication of the spirit of this young battalion.

  Some time in the afternoon the Nagas brought in news of an enemy concentration at Mao Songsang, twenty miles to the south on the Imphal road. (This was part of Miyazaki’s column, which was now preparing to move north.) In the evening, Richards sent out a fighting patrol, under Major Giles, with orders to get up into the high jungle on the Aradura Spur and harass the enemy. To their surprise, when darkness had fallen, the patrol heard the sound of digging close by, then movement behind them. Giles came to the conclusion that he was being surrounded, so collected his men together, ordered ‘fix bayonets’, and charged. After a number of Japs had been killed the patrol was able to extricate itself and streamed back into the perimeter. This was the first contact with the enemy at Kohima.

  By the 4th April, Richards had moved his headquarters to its battle position in a dugout on the slope of Garrison Hill, facing Naga Village; and on the morning of that day he made a tour of the perimeter. Though food and ammunition was now in position in adequate quantities, one problem, he hadn’t been able to solve was barbed wire. There was not a foot of it anywhere in the position. Why this should have been it is even now impossible to say; the depots in Dimapur were full of it, the Assam Regiment had drawn all they needed for Jessami and Kharasom, and the incoming units of 5th Brigade were collecting supplies without difficulty. But Richards’ requests, more urgent with every day that went by, had been ignored by 202 Area; and personal pleas to Ranking had produced no action either. By the 3rd April it was obvious that no wire would ever come, so Pawsey collected his Nagas together and they made some sharp stakes, or panjies, which were rammed into the ground in rows to make some sort of obstacle. But the lack of wire still remained a great worry. The atmosphere at this time has been described by Peter Steyn: ‘Tension mounted slowly and the question of whether Kohima could survive an attack was on everyone’s lips. The answer lay in the realms of conjecture, but hopes and spirits were high. And so the last night of peace began….’

  It lasted till just before midnight, when the Japanese attacked the lower slopes of the Aradura Spur, where an ambush had been prepared by a platoon of the State troops. Unfortunately, the latter weren’t equal to the occasion and, after a bout of wild firing in all directions, they broke and ran. Some went right through the G.P.T. Ridge and Jail Hill positions, and a few kept going till Dimapur. Richards tried to stop the wild firing, knowing its effect on morale, but as soon as one sector had been dealt with, the jitters spread to another.

  Earlier on the 4th, Stopford had flown to Dimapur for a conference with Grover and Ranking. On arrival, he found a ‘very optimistic atmosphere’, as reports from various sources indicated ‘that 31st Jap Div. is of poor quality and demoralized’. Where these reports came from, it is now difficult to say, and all one can remark is that they were woefully inaccurate. However, it was at this meeting that Stopford came to an important decision, as he recorded: ‘Everything indicates that no attack is now likely to develop in the Manipur Road base [i.e. Dimapur] and that we should withdraw troops from there in order to strengthen the garrison at Kohima…. Told Ranking to send forward one battalion 0f 161 Inf. Bde. to Kohima as quickly as possible.’ In fact, after further discussion, it was decided to despatch the whole Brigade. This decision, a reversal of the one given a few days previously, was undoubtedly right; but unhappily it came twenty-four hours too late.

  While Stopford was holding his conference, another important event was happening at Imphal: 4th Corps completed its withdrawal to the plain. The 17th, 20th, and 23rd Indian Divisions were now on their chosen ground, though encircled by the Japanese 15th and 33rd Divisions, and the I.N.A. forces. The 17th Division, which had already sustained heavy casualties was tired, but the 20th and 23rd Divisions had experienced an easier passage. All were now prepared for the onslaught to come. But as Scoones and his men all realized, the outcome of the battle depended not only on their own skill and gallantry, but on the success of the airlift and the length of time it could be maintained. They knew also that their own fate was now inextricably linked to the fate of their comrades at Kohima.

  Mutaguchi, of course, knew this too, and Sato. By the night of the 4th, the latter had established his headquarters at Khanjang, Southeast of Jessami; and his orders to Miyazaki and his regimental commanders were: ‘Capture Kohima—at once.’

  On the morning of the 5th April, Richards carried out a tour of the perimeter to find that some Indian troops had come off the western end of G.P.T. Ridge (the southern end of the position) during the night. There was no alternative but to shorten the perimeter and dig new positions to close the gap. Tentage in front of these had to be struck, to provide a field of fir
e. The job was given to a company made up of Gurkhas from the reinforcement camp, and they hadn’t long started when sniping broke out, causing casualties. However, they behaved calmly, and went on till the ground was clear, then took over this sector on G.P.T. Ridge, helped by a platoon from the Assam Regiment.

  In the afternoon, the 58th Regiment got ready to attack Kohima from the east. Apparently, unknown to the garrison, its advance guard had entered Naga Village the previous night. Captain Tsuneo Sanukawae of the nth Company has written:

  ‘We entered Naga Village at 4 a.m. on the 5th. The town was fast asleep. After dealing with the sentries we occupied seven depots and took about thirty trucks. The enemy had not noticed our advance and at 9 a.m. came to the depots to draw their rations. We got them and made them prisoner. At 10 a.m. I was prepared to attack the town, but at that moment we were fired on by artillery.1 At 1300 hours we informed our main body that we had occupied Kohima Village, and an hour later they arrived. We could not say we had won Kohima until we had gained the hill beyond the road junction, so we attacked…. Praying to God, we rushed into action, under cover of light machine-gun fire, throwing grenades as we went.’

  Naoje Koboyashi, another member of the Company, has written in similar vein:

  ‘When we reached Kohima we were all tired out after the ceaseless advance day and night, and the troops fell asleep where they were. At first light I looked across towards the Hill [i.e. Garrison Hill] and could see the enemy soldiers walking about… they still seemed not to realize we were there.’

  At this point it may be worth mentioning that the 58th Regiment was the crack formation of the Division, with a proud tradition and a long series of victories behind it. The Regimental depot was at Echigo, in the Niigato Prefecture, 150 miles north of Tokyo, on the west coast. This is an area famous for its rice harvest, and most of the men were of farming stock. They were, therefore, tough, self-reliant, and accustomed to hardship. Most of them had seven or eight years service behind them. The 58th considered themselves superior to the 13 8th, and had no great opinion of the 124th at all. However, they had been somewhat shaken by the action at Sangshak and by the ferocious defence put up by Hope-Thompson’s brigade. Many good officers and N.C.O.s had gone down leading attacks, and the Regiment arrived at Kohima somewhat mauled, and temporarily exhausted. However, its fighting spirit and morale still remained unimpaired; and in a matter of hours it was launched into the attack.

  This was led by Captain Nageie of the 2nd Battalion, but it was broken up, largely thanks to the mortars of the Assam Regiment, operating from Jail Hill. Unfortunately, however, they were knocked out and there was no choice but to evacuate the whole of G.P.T. Ridge. It was while this operation was being carried out that the 4th Royal West Kents arrived, under their commanding officer, Lieut.-Colonel Laverty. Warned that the unit would be coming, Richards had laid on guides for each company and went down to the road to welcome Laverty in person. As Richards records, the meeting was not a happy one: ‘Laverty merely asked, “Where’s Kuki Piquet?” I told him and he went off without speaking further.’ Fortunately, the battalion got into position without being shelled and occupied the D.I.S., Kuki Piquet and sectors of the perimeter on Garrison Hill and I.G.H. Spur. With it came a troop of the 20th Mountain Battery, a platoon of sappers and a detachment of 75 Indian Field Ambulance.

  As the troops of the Royal West Kents sorted themselves out and slid into their weapon pits, Richards had a talk with Major Dick Yeo, the gunner, who was digging in his 3.7 howitzers in the garden by the D.C.’s bungalow. He had not got out many words, however, when the Jap artillery began plastering the area. Moving over to Laverty’s headquarters, Richards was in time to see the enemy launch an attack on Jail Hill. The defenders replied with rifle and Bren fire, and all the grenades they could lay their hands on; but, unsupported by artillery or mortar fire, they obviously couldn’t hold out long, and as the enemy mortars took their toll and casualties mounted, gaps began to appear. Soon the Japs got a foothold on the near side of the road, and it became clear that, if Jail Hill was to be held, a counter-attack must go in at once. This was organized by Lieutenant Brown and Subadar Kapthuama Lushai, of the Assam Regiment, but it made no headway and, when Brown was killed, immediately broke up. So within twenty-four hours the perimeter was shortened for the second time.

  To say that the Royal West Kents were displeased to be pushed back into Kohima, and invited to fight alongside the motley collection of detachments which formed the bulk of its garrison, was an understatement. They were horrified; and one cannot blame them. Troops in the field like to fight alongside their sister units which they have grown to know and trust; and under their own commanders. They like their own gunners to support them, their own R.A.S.C. or I.A.S.C. to supply them, and their own doctors to look after them. They tend to despise base or L. of C. troops, and prefer to have as little to do with them as possible. The idea of going into battle with them is anathema.

  But to understand the feeling of the Royal West Kents is not to uphold their prejudices. In fact, the Assam Regiment and the Assam Rifles had already fought the Japanese with great gallantry; and the scratch companies of British and Gurkhas possessed great fighting quality too. Some officers of the Royal West Kents began to appreciate this; but, on the whole, mistrust dispersed very slowly and in some quarters not at all.

  The man who bore the brunt of this mistrust and suspicion was undoubtedly Colonel Richards. Many accusations were made about him at the time, and many have been since; but all have proved entirely without basis or fact, though only now is the record being put straight. Richards, as must be evident, had a most unenviable task. He had been trying to plan the defence of Kohima without any idea as to the troops he would have allocated, and his administration was of necessity hasty and improvised. As the Royal West Kents observed caustically, the defences were badly dug; but they had mostly been completed by civilian labour before Richards arrived. The arrangements for water supply, as they observed also, were quite inadequate; but Richards had had no time to institute engineering works, even if there had been men to carry them out. The medical arrangements were unsatisfactory too; but until it was known which medical units would be in the siege, more advanced arrangements were out of the question. However, Richards was the commander; and unjustly took the blame.

  It cannot be said that Brigadier Warren helped the situation either. As already mentioned, he was very pro-Indian and very anti-British service; and he resented the fact that Richards, whose experience lay solely with British and West African troops, should be in command of a garrison containing Indians and Gurkhas. From the first day of the siege, Warren refused to deal with Richards and spoke to Laverty direct. In his own phrase, he regarded Laverty as ‘the tactical commander of the Kohima box’.

  However, in his major decision, perhaps the most important of his whole career, Warren did more than any one man to save Kohima. This decision was to form a second box with the other two battalions and eight of his guns at Jotsoma, two miles along the road towards Dimapur. Pushed forward again on the 5th, his orders had been to put the whole brigade into Kohima, but with the perimeter shortened and the enemy already attacking it, he realized that the situation had changed completely. There was no longer enough room for three battalions and, not less important, there was no position from which to fire his guns. With his excellent eye for ground, Warren at once appreciated the dominant position of Naga Village, to the north of the perimeter, but it was very doubtful if he could reach it; and the tactical situation demanded that he should be on the Northwest, that is the Dimapur side of Kohima, so that he could link up with the 2nd Division when they advanced along the road. After a quick reconnaissance, he decided on an area near the village of Jotsoma, just over two miles from Kohima. It was not an ideal defensive position by any means, but it commanded an excellent view of Kohima Ridge, and was near enough for the guns to give close support to the garrison. There was another point in its favour: Warren had a good deal of t
ransport, which had to be brought into the defended area, and, by a stroke of luck, Jotsoma was on a loop road running up to the high ground, from milestone 431, and descending three miles later. The road junctions were dubbed ‘Lancaster Gate’ and ‘Paternoster Row’, and so they were known throughout the campaign. All day during the 6th April, Warren’s men moved up to Jotsoma, and quickly prepared their defensive position. The Rajputs2 (less one company which had succeeded in joining the garrison of Kohima) occupied the Southeastern sector, and the Punjabs closed the box to the north and east. Meanwhile, the guns of the 2nd Battery, waiting on the road at milestone 42, provided a sitting target for the Jap mountain gunners, now established over the valley to the north, on Merema Ridge. Shells rained down among the hastily scooped-out gun pits, but by some miracle did no damage; and when the 2nd Battery began returning the fire, the Japs immediately took their guns out of action. Major John Nettlefield records: ‘Shortly afterwards, an elephant carrying what our binoculars seemed to indicate was another mountain gun, was spotted ambling along the Bokajan track. Our first round landed very close and the elephant was seen to charge, apparently out of control, into the nearby cover. We followed up with a few more rounds for luck—we were sorry about the elephant, but it was war…’ By the late afternoon the eight guns were in position on a reverse slope in the Jotsoma box, and radio contact was made with Major Yeo in the garrison. Immediately the guns began registering, and laying on defensive fire tasks, which could be called for as required by the garrison. They were required at once, and at short intervals for many days. At the peak of their activity these Indian mountain gunners were firing at the rate of 400 rounds per gun per day; and despite the pressure, the infantry recorded that they had never seen such accurate shooting in their lives.