Kohima

by Arthur Swinson

  The night of the 5th April had been a quiet one for the Kohima Garrison; but Colonel Fukunaga, commanding the 58th Japanese Regiment, had been at work planning an attack on Jail Hill for the next morning. Soon after first light, heralded by a heavy mortar barrage, it went in and the defenders were driven off. The Japanese suffered heavily in this engagement, and Captain Nageie was killed at the head of his men.3 (In Japanese accounts, incidentally, Jail Hill is known as ‘Uma Hill’ and Garrison Hill is usually called ‘Deputy Commissioner’s Hill’.) An incorrect report reached Laverty that only a platoon of Japanese had been involved in the action, so he at once ordered a company to stage a counter-attack. Preparations were at once put in hand, but it soon became evident that there was something like two companies of Japanese on the hill, firmly established in defensive positions. Any assault would have involved the garrison in a large number of casualties which it hadn’t the faculties to handle, so the operation was called off. The loss of jail Hill was serious, however, as it dominated the D.I.S. and F.S.D., though fortunately the woods still gave the men on the perimeter a good deal of cover.

  Right through the 6th there was intermittent shelling and mortaring, which made movement within the perimeter increasingly dangerous. Troops had to keep in or near their trenches and the business of distributing food and water became almost impossible in the hours of daylight. But some movement had to take place: as obviously the D.I.S. and F.S.D. would be the enemy’s next objectives, all non-combatants had to be cleared out and found a place on I.G.H. Spur.

  *

  At Maymyo General Mutaguchi was not displeased with the march of events. His 33rd and 15th Divisions were now battering at the gates of Imphal, while his fellow member of the ‘Cherry Society’, General Sato, had reached Kohima at the appointed time, and signals indicated that he had already secured two-thirds of the objective.

  It was not mere chance that Sato hit the jeep track running from the Chindwin to Jessami and Kohima. Since December 1943 a Lieutenant Masa Nishida and a mixed party of Japanese troops and Indians (all disguised as natives) had been operating in the country between the Chindwin and Kohima with orders to reconnoitre five routes for the 31 st Division. All the men had been specially selected and trained at the Nakana School for espionage in Tokyo, and they accomplished their mission brilliantly, though not without some hair-raising escapes and adventures. The fact that the track had been built at all by his enemies was, of course, a slice of luck for Sato; but, as Clausewitz remarks, ‘War is the province of chance’ and, with an operation as daring as the advance on Kohima, Sato was surely entitled to any luck that was going.

  In general, the situation looked so promising that Mutaguchi permitted himself a few moments of his ‘private speculations’. Interpreting the intelligence reports which came flooding in from Assam, he suddenly realized that there was a ripe plum ready for picking: the base of Dimapur. This had not figured largely in the initial planning of the campaign, the generals probably assuming that it would be heavily defended; but now it was at his mercy. If Sato took it, which he should be able to do with a regimental group, the British could neither reinforce their beleaguered troops in Kohima and the Imphal Plain, nor use the railway to retreat to India. The whole central front would be paralysed, then smashed. Mutaguchi sent off two signals, the first to Sato ordering him to advance on Dimapur at once, cut the railway, and secure food and supplies for his troops; and the second to General Kawabe, commander of the Southern Area Army, asking him to signal Count Terauchi to request the air cover to Dimapur. Once this request had been agreed, so Mutaguchi calculated, Sato could reach Dimapur in three days. But it was not agreed; Kawabe replied immediately that ‘Dimapur is not within the strategic objectives of the 15th Army’. Mutaguchi protested, giving his own interpretation of the order, but Kawabe remained adamant.

  The reason for the difference in interpretation was this. The Japanese generals had argued so bitterly among themselves during 1943 that the final orders for the Burma offensive were something of a compromise. The instructions sent to Kawabe by Imperial Army in Headquarters on the 7th January 1944 ran as follows: ‘C.-in-C. Southern Army will break the enemy on his front at the opportune time, and will capture and secure the strategic areas near Imphal and in North-East India for the defence of Burma.’ But what were ‘the strategic areas’ and how far did they extend? The phrase was a vague one, capable of many interpretations; Kawabe interpreted it strictly, and Mutaguchi more liberally, stretching it to accommodate his daydreams. Mutaguchi was right, there could be no doubt whatsoever; this was what Napoleon called ‘the favourable moment’, and Sato had only to hold Dimapur for a month to bring the British to the brink of disaster. But Mutaguchi dared not disobey Kawabe; and the moment passed. Sato’s troops were called back, to join in the fight for Kohima.

  On the night of the 6th April, Lieut.-Colonel John Young, commander of the 75th Field Ambulance, made his way into the perimeter and took charge of all the medical arrangements. Deciding that the five aid posts should be amalgamated into an A.D.S. (Advanced Dressing Station), he sited this on the reverse slopes of Summerhouse Hill, not far from the Royal West Kents’ command post. Men of the Pioneer Corps dug trenches for the wounded, and Young designed a large pit, covered by a tarpaulin, for an operating theatre. Though this was the most sheltered spot to be found, it was by no means ideal, and the condition of the wounded, lying out in the slit trenches, was pitiable in the extreme. The whole area was shelled and mortared day and night, and some of the men were wounded a second time, and others killed. The officers kept their revolvers loaded under the blankets, ready to shoot themselves if the Japanese broke through the perimeter. Young was quite tireless, and an inspiration to all the medical staff and stretcher-bearers. He attended the wounded in the open, quite regardless of his own personal safety, and on one occasion led a party outside the box to retrieve some medical supplies from a lorry on the road.

  On the night of the 6th, the 2nd and 5th Companies of the 58th launched their attack on the D.I.S. and F.S.D., coming in two columns from Jail Hill. Both these features were protected on the western flank by steep banks and the Japanese had to cross the road to reach them. It was here that the guns of Jotsoma caught them, firing on a prearranged defence task. Dozens of the attackers went down on the tarmac, and many more, having survived this curtain of fire, were destroyed by the rifle and Bren gun fire which poured down at them from the defence posts, and by the grenades which came rolling down the banks. The first attack faltered, stopped, then broke up; but a second wave came on, then a third, then a fourth. But the covering fire from the Japanese mortars was accurate, and as time went on gaps appeared in the forward rifle pits. Small parties of Japanese streamed through these gaps and made for the bashas and huts on the hilltop. Here they found a good store of grenades, which they began using with good effect against ‘C’ Company of the Royal West Kents, who had to throw out a protective flank. Nothing could be done about these insurgents till daylight, however, as any action within the box might result in casualties to friend as well as foe.

  *

  When daylight came, Laverty soon saw the Japanese intruders were concentrated in the bakery area, where ovens were dotted over the hillside, and he ordered his ‘D’ Company to destroy them. The job was tricky, not only because the trees obscured observation, but because the enemy now had some 75-mm. guns on G.P.T. Ridge, which were able to shoot up the advancing company in the flank. However, the attack went in; the Royal West Kents poured small arms fire into the bashas and the vehicles which were parked among them, then gave covering fire for the sappers, who rushed forward with pole charges. A series of explosions shook the hill, then the whole area became a sheet of flame through which a number of figures could be seen running. The first of these turned out to be Indian troops the Japanese had captured, and they were followed by the Japanese themselves. Fire was already belching from many of them, but others, rather than face the encircling guns, fried to death where they were.
And some, perhaps the most foolish party of all, took refuge in the ovens, thinking perhaps that the brickwork would save them. But unfortunately for them, the basha containing the ovens attracted the attention of Lance-Corporal John Harman, a brilliant soldier who was soon to win the V.C. As he approached the basha, one of the Japs let off some shots which missed him, and Harman ran back to his section post for a box of grenades. Dragging this along behind him, he returned to the basha, went inside, and took cover behind the nearest oven. Here he took a grenade out of the box, removed the pin and let the safety lever fly, then counted three seconds. Quickly, before the grenade blew up on the fourth, he lifted the steel lid and popped it into the oven. There was an explosion and the Jap inside was killed; and Harman dragged his box of grenades along to the next oven. In the end, he had dealt with all ten. Curiously enough, when he went to inspect the insides of the ovens, two of the Japs were still alive, though badly wounded. These he dragged out into the open, then, putting one under each arm, carried them across to his section post. The men began cheering, and soon the excitement spread from post to post. In all, forty-four Japanese bodies were counted in the bakery area. Later, so it was realized, one of the men brought across by Harman was an officer of the 58th Regiment, and in his haversack was discovered a panorama of Kohima, indicating Japanese artillery positions. He also had a survey map, from which it appeared that his regiment was deployed with a battalion on Naga Village, whose objectives were the Treasury and the D.C.’s bungalow, at the northern end of the perimeter, a battalion on Jail Hill and G.P.T. Ridge, and a battalion in reserve on the Imphal road. The regiment’s supply base was marked at Khangjang, where also was located Sato’s divisional headquarters.

  According to accounts written by Japanese soldiers after the battle, this attack was led by Captain Shiro Sato (no relation to the General), who took over the 2nd Battalion on the death of Captain Nageie. Their attacks were broken up, they say, ‘by heavy artillery fire, and when daylight came we had over sixty casualties. Then the artillery fire became so deadly that Sato decided it was better to attack than to be killed where we were, and ordered the advance.’

  The Battalion Commander, Major Shimanoe, described this action as ‘a crushing defeat for the 58th Regiment’. Never in its history had it encountered such determination in defence. Some of the men could be heard complaining: ‘This is even worse than Sangshak.’

  Another notable event happened this day: a Company of the 4th/7th Rajputana Rifles from the Jotsoma Box, managed to slip into the perimeter. They made a very welcome addition to the garrison.

  Richards was now very much occupied with administrative problems.

  The Japanese had cut the water supply on G.P.T. Ridge and only a trickle was coming through the pipe. Orders had therefore to be issued, rationing each man to a pint a day, a pitiable amount in the warm climate, and in the heat of battle. Fighting is the most dehydrating occupation known to man. Lieut.-Colonel Borrowman, now Richards’s second-in-command, worked hard at the administrative arrangements, as did Major Franklin, second-in-command of the Royal West Kents. A large number of chagals (canvas water containers) were available, and using these, and anything else they could improvise, the troops showed great ingenuity in dodging snipers and mortar fire, to brew up ‘char’. The constant shelling and mortaring, however, was ripping the leaves off the branches and the branches off the trees, so that each day the position became more exposed. Even the luxuriant growth of rhododendrons surrounding the D.C.’s bungalow and the Club area was ravaged, though some hardy bushes blossomed unconcerned. The sniping grew so bad that all movement in the daytime in the neighbourhood of Richards’s headquarters became extremely hazardous. His wireless set had failed on the morning of the 5th, as the batteries were exhausted and his charging engine had not arrived. He mentioned the matter to Laverty, to be told that the Royal West Kents’ engine had all it could do recharging their own batteries. So Richards was now cut off from the outside world, and all signals from Warren or anyone else had to go to Laverty.

  The number of walking wounded was beginning to mount up; and Colonel Young considered that, as they’d been able to walk in, they should be able to walk out. So a party was organized, the guide being Lieutenant Corlett (the Assam Regiment subaltern who had taken the withdrawal message through to Jessami), helped by a Naga detailed by Charles Pawsey. The commander of the party was Major Franklin, and a platoon of the 4th/7th Rajputana Rifles, from the company just arrived, acted as escort. When evening came, and there was a lull in the fighting, the party, which now totalled some 100 wounded, plus some non-combatants, slipped out of the perimeter by I.G.H. Spur with the escort, and made its way down the precipitous slopes into the Zubza nala. The risks were great, as everyone knew, and if they bumped anything but a small patrol they’d be lucky to survive the journey. However, all went well; no Japs were encountered and for once the guides didn’t lose the way. By daylight the party were safe in Zubza, without a wounded man being lost.

  On the night of the 7th, the garrison expected a heavy attack, but it didn’t materialize. When the Japs were heard forming up on the slopes of Jail Hill for an attack on the D.I.S., Major Yeo called for defensive fire from the guns at Jotsoma, which was brought down in a matter of seconds. An attack came in, but it had obviously been broken up and disorganized by the shell fire and wasn’t pressed home. Later that night, there was an attack on the D.C.’s bungalow area, but the British troops there were never in any trouble and the action petered out. Despite these minor successes, however, Richards kept any signs of optimism well under control; just after dark, he had seen a column of lanterns moving into Naga Village, obviously carried by reinforcements moving up from Jessami. He pointed out the column to Yeo, hoping that it might just be in range of the guns at Jotsoma, but unhappily it wasn’t. More frustrating still, the guns Yeo had manhandled on to Summerhouse Hill couldn’t be used against the target either; the only possible site for them, on a reverse slope, was now full of wounded. So the Japs were allowed to settle into their new position unmolested. And next morning Richards saw five elephants moving along the track, carrying more guns.

  During periods of silence during the night, the Japs had brought another weapon into action: the loudspeaker. It had been set up near the Treasury, and an Indian of the I.N. A. came on, speaking in Urdu: ‘Hindustan ki jawan!’ he called, ‘Soldiers of India, the Japanese army has surrounded you. Bring your rifle and come over to us. We are liberating India from the iniquities and tyrannies of British rule.’ Someone let off a burst of Bren towards the speaker, but the voice still went on, repeating the same message over and over again. What the Indian troops thought of it, it’s hard to say. But certainly none of them moved from their weapon pits.

  During this period, as more companies and platoons of the 58th came to join their comrades investing Kohima, there were inevitably men who were going into action for the first time. Naturally, their officers and N.C.O.s tried to relieve the tension by various means, some of them rather crude as in this story told by Lieutenant Seisaku Kameyama of the 2nd Battalion:

  ‘“You see,” I said to my soldiers, “keep your heads, keep cool. If you want to find out just how cool you are feeling, put your hands inside your trousers and feel your penis—if it is hanging down, it is good.” I tested mine, but it was shrunk up so hard I could hardly grasp it. More than thirty soldiers did the same thing, then looked at me curiously, but I kept a poker-face. I said, “Well, mine’s down all right. If yours is shrunk up, it’s because you’re scared.”

  Then a young soldier said to me: “Sir, I can’t find mine at all. What’s happening to it?” With this everyone burst out laughing and I knew I had got the confidence of the men.’

  The platoon went into action, and by nightfall only eighteen men out of thirty were left.

  On the 7th, Stopford had passed an order to Warren via General Ranking, that he must get on and stage a counter-attack to regain the ground that had been lost on G.P.T. Ridge and Jai
l Hill. Warren replied that he was collecting information ‘to make sure that my attack goes in at the right place’. What he didn’t appreciate was that Miyazaki and the 58th Regiment were steadily working round his western flank and would soon be cutting him off.

  Meanwhile, Stopford was hard at work on the plans for his counter-offensive. Though he had a great respect for Slim, his admiration for the 14th Army staff was minimal; and with the considerable verbal equipment at his command, urged them to get a move on. ‘I don’t think,’ he said, ‘they realize the administrative implications of attacking through this awful country… with the rains only a month away, they are terrific’ It would be fair to add that 14th Army staff weren’t the only people not to realize the difficulties; no one did.

  On the 8th April the pressure on the Kohima garrison increased steadily. The enemy had now hauled some quick-firing anti-tank guns up on to G.P.T. Ridge, and these were cunningly sited so that the battery from Jotsoma couldn’t touch them. The shells from these came so fast that there was no time to duck or slide into a trench. The shell, in fact, arrived before the noise. The trees, though they gave cover from view, made the situation worse on the whole. If a shell lands on the ground a soldier in his trench is unharmed, but if the shell hits a tree its fragments explode into the trenches. It soon became evident, therefore, that head cover must be provided, though the snag about this was that it limited the soldiers’ field of fire and constricted them in the use of their weapons. Eventually the answer proved to be the construction of covered trenches besides the weapon pits; but this took time and meanwhile a good many men were lost.