Kohima

by Arthur Swinson

  It was a depressing day for Mountbatten, too. The threat to his transport aircraft had grown to such an extent that he was now keeping them from day to day. On this day he signalled the combined Chiefs of Staff that two courses were now open to him, neither of which would admit half-measures. He could hold on to the aircraft till the road was open and Imphal relieved; or he could send them away, as ordered. If the latter course were adopted, however—as he forcibly pointed out—the Chindits would have to be withdrawn, Stilwell would be forced to retreat, and Scoones’ 4th Corps would have to fly out of Imphal, leaving their guns, equipment and stores behind them. In turn, the Ledo Road would have to be abandoned. In other words, the whole front would collapse; the Japs would achieve their objectives; and the blow to Allied prestige in the Far East would be so heavy that it might never recover. No immediate reply was received to this signal and, with increasing anxiety, Mountbatten held on to the aircraft.

  No major action was fought this day, though as always patrols were out, and some minor clashes occurred. The regiments were busy organizing themselves for the coming offensive, and new units were coming forward. Of these the 4th/1st Gurkhas took over Two Tree Hill, half a mile to the west of Jail Hill. They were a young unit, with young officers, commanded by Lieut.-Colonel Hedderwick. (Brigadier Warren told Grover that, in his view, their youth and inexperience were such that they should not be put into a battle.) Their Brigade was the 33rd, of General Messervy’s 7th Division, the two other battalions in the brigade being the 1st Queens and the 4th/15th Punjab. Soon the whole brigade would be drawn into the battle.

  Victor Hawkins was already directing his attention towards Naga Village and subalterns of the Worcestershires and the Camerons were slipping through the Jap defences with patrols, pinpointing strong points, and bringing back information on such details as to ‘where they slept and their hours of inactivity’. Hawkins wrote: ‘I cannot speak too highly of the work these boys did. They came back sometimes exhausted, but never failed to respond to my call for more.’ But how he could move his brigade on to Naga Village while Firs Hill still held it was difficult to say. A second attempt by the Worcestershires and Camerons to infiltrate on to the latter had failed, though fortunately without great loss.

  On the 2nd May the bad news continued. Three Naga porters, on the 4th Brigade supply route, were met by a Japanese patrol, which was evidently lying up in wait for them. Their loads were taken, then they were beaten up, and left tied to trees. The Japanese patrol (or what was thought to be the same one) was later ambushed by the Royal Scots, but it was now clear that the enemy had knowledge that a column of some size was operating in the Pulebadze area, and hopes of achieving surprise were dwindling rapidly.

  Progress was still slow. And before noon Goschen was forced to signal Grover again and say that he couldn’t be ready now till the 4th May. This was a heavy blow to the divisional commander, especially as he knew that Stopford and Slim would be arriving any moment to receive a report on his progress. Accounts of the meeting which ensued vary widely. According to Stopford, Slim ‘was obviously upset’ that the major attack on the ridge ‘had not started long ago’. Slim, on the other hand says: ‘I was determined not to push Stopford beyond the pace that he considered wise.… He was the last commander to drag his feet….’ Grover records: ‘Slim was very insistent on the need for speed, very largely for political reasons. He evidently thought we had been going rather slowly, but appeared surprised at the size of the country. He was also a little sceptical as to the strength in front of us—though later events proved that we were correct and he was wrong.’ There is little point in trying to reconcile these accounts. The reality of the situation, the need for taking Kohima and reopening the road was known to all three generals; and the reasons for the delay, whether valid or otherwise, were at this juncture of secondary importance. In this context, it is quite clear that Slim and Stopford had no alternative but to press for immediate action; and that Grover had good cause to think them somewhat unreasonable. This kind of situation is common in war, and is repeated right down the chain of command.

  Before leaving, Stopford told Grover that he ‘must push 5th Brigade into Naga Village’ the following night. Grover passed the order on to Victor Hawkins, asking him to work out a plan which would be discussed with a liaison officer (bearing Grover’s ideas) who would arrive next morning. Hawkins’ reaction wasn’t favourable. He says: ‘I didn’t like it a bit. Not only were the Japs still on Firs Hill, which covered our only route, but it meant again passing the whole brigade across the Jap front and then this time through their lines… and planting ourselves in the middle of them on the most important tactical feature of their position. I foresaw a nasty time ahead of us.’ But, despite his personal forebodings, Hawkins went ahead with his usual energy; he again grilled Phillips of the Worcestershires, and Peter Cameron and Neil White of the Camerons when they brought back their patrols. He also considered a report from Captain Mackay of the Camerons who said ‘he had found a way round the enemy flank’. Firs Hill was naturally causing him enormous worry; and he seriously considered fighting a third action to gain it, with the help of the tanks. But the tank commander’s reply was: ‘Unless we can get a bulldozer to help us, it isn’t on, so far as we’re concerned.’ So that was that. Hawkins had to consider how he could get round the hill with the minimum risk, and came to the conclusion that a whole battalion would have to picket the lower slopes of the hill. This would leave two battalions for the main operation, with no troops left to guard the ‘tail’. When Major Robertson, the liaison officer, arrived, it soon became obvious that Grover hadn’t yet received all the information regarding the Jap dispositions and (in Hawkins’ eyes) his plan was unworkable. Hawkins’ own plan was much bolder and therefore much riskier. He’d decided to use the Camerons to occupy Naga Village and Point 5120, a high feature on the far edge of it; and, as silence was a prerequisite of the operation, he’d laid down that they should travel as light as possible, wearing gym shoes. The track to be used was the only one reported by patrols to be free from Japanese weapon pits. The timing was vitally important too. Patrols had reported that the Japs slept between three and five in the morning, so the whole operation would have to be completed in that time. Hawkins reckoned that if the Camerons left at 0200 hours they could cover the two miles and reach Point 5120 within an hour. Once they’d succeeded, they were to report by code, so that the Lancashire Fusiliers could follow on. The Worcestershires, picketing Firs Hill, would remain in position till receiving orders to close. The tanks would remain with them and act as an escort, before returning to Division.

  When Robertson took details of this plan back to John Grover there was some consternation among his staff. The dangers of the operation leapt from the page. If the Camerons were heavily attacked on route, if they couldn’t get into Naga Village, if the track proved to be held, if the enemy companies on Firs Hill decided to come down and hit the brigade while it was on the move… one could go on endlessly. But, as Grover had to ask himself: what was the alternative? The brigade was doing no good where it was, and he’d received urgent orders from Stopford to push it into Naga Village. Slim had also sent a message direct. Courageously, Grover agreed to Hawkins’ plan, and gave permission for him to go ahead. Like Hawkins himself, he was very worried; but relations between these two men were excellent, and their trust in each other was complete. Also Hawkins was lucky….

  All day during the 2nd May the Royal Norfolk, with a company of the Royal Scots under command, toiled onwards to Oaks Hill, the new assembly area. Captain Hornor says: ‘The climb… was very trying, all ranks being much overloaded, and this in spite of a great amount of ammunition, battle batteries, and rations which could not be carried having been buried. As from the start of this move no more fires were allowed, the physical strain began to be apparent. It was a weary 2nd Norfolk which led on to Oaks Hill through the S.S. Company….’ The jungle was so thick on this feature that nothing could be seen; and Goschen de
cided that to reduce the risk of discovery to a minimum, only one reconnaissance party would be allowed. This didn’t please Robert Scott at all, especially when he discovered that he would be allowed only two representatives on it. After a sharp exchange, Goschen increased the number from two to eight, and the commanders of the leading companies were included. The time fixed for the reconnaissance was 0700 hours on the following morning.

  While the Royal Norfolk were slogging towards Oaks Hill, the Royal Scots were occupying a feature above it, known as Pavilion Hill. Here the Japs were more active, and put in an attack on the leading platoons at mid-day. Fortunately, they had come uphill in the open and the machine-gunners were able to deal with them. However, at dusk, before two companies had even had time to dig in, the cry ‘Banzai! Banzai!’ was heard in the thick jungle around the perimeter, then the Jap machine-gunners opened up, and the spring grenades started coming over to explode among the slit trenches. After this the infantry came in with their usual spirit, and though many were shot down, others pressed on, and a section of Major Menzies’ company was overrun. As darkness fell, and the confusion grew, it seemed that the enemy might penetrate the position in some strength, but a section commander, Lance-Corporal McKay, rallied his Jocks, and they tore into the Japanese. For a while there were shouts and cries and the sight of desperate in-fighting, but McKay and his men gained the upper hand, and the situation was then restored by the platoon commander, Colin Black. Two more attacks came in at the same spot, the Japanese probably reasoning that if they could wear the platoon down, sooner or later it would have to give. But it didn’t; and eventually, with their own losses mounting, they gave up. During the action, an enemy machine-gun section had tried to establish themselves on a high feature, overlooking the whole position, but McKay picked them off with his Sten gun. For this, and his other actions that night, he was awarded the Military Medal, while Colin Black won the Military Cross. In all the Royal Scots lost only six men, but when daylight came they found Jap bodies in the jungle all around them. Some had rolled down the hill till stopped by trees, and others were lodged precariously on narrow ledges. There was one amusing incident during the action, when the commanding officer sent Major Menzies a ‘rocket’ because his company were using too much ammunition. To this Menzies replied: ‘It isn’t my men that are blazing away—it’s the Japs.’ A dangerous moment occurred when the second-in-command, Major Hay ward, joined in the job of priming Mills grenades. After watching his efforts, those around him made a hurried departure.

  From the scale of this attack on the Royal Scots, and the fact that the Japanese had pushed troops so far up towards Mount Pulebadze, it was obvious that their strength on this flank had increased. On the evening of the 2nd, Grover discovered why. The 4th/1st Gurkhas, now occupying Two Tree Hill, found a telephone line running up to a Jap O.P. Intelligently, they cut it, then laid on an ambush, and when the Japs arrived to repair the break, killed them and stripped their pockets. The men were identified as belonging to the Colonel Miyamoto’s 124th Regiment, part of the force which had been intended for Kanglatongbi. This was the first news Grover had received that they were on this flank, and it made him glad that he had changed the plan for 4th Brigade. If it had gone down Aradura Spur to cut the road, Miyamoto might well have been strong enough to cut it off; and without air supply, its position would have been serious.

  On reaching his headquarters, Stopford received information from his Intelligence officers that ‘a prisoner stated most definitely that the Japs had been gradually withdrawing during the last week and that he realized Kohima would fall’. Stopford seems to have accepted this report and asked Brigadier Wood to phone its contents to Grover, ‘as an urge to keep thrusting forward’. But, as events were to show, the prisoner, like most Japanese, told his interrogators what he thought they’d like to hear.

  *

  The 3rd May was the final day of preparation before the offensive against Kohima; it was a day of great activity and great tension. The troops had no illusions as to what the battle would be like, even if they were successful; their commanders knew the price of failure. At 0700 hours, guarded by an escort of Major McGeorge’s S.S. Company, Brigadier Goschen’s reconnaissance party moved off, working its way on to the lower slopes of the Aradura Spur before turning north towards the objective. According to one account: ‘…the same view of jungle five yards away, to which everyone was well accustomed, was all that could be obtained; had the chance of discovery permitted climbing a tree an equally entrancing view of tree tops could have been obtained….’ Altogether, the reconnaissance seemed pretty hopeless, but after some hours of crawling and scrambling, a spot with some sort of view was found. From here part of Jail Hill could be seen, and short of it, a corrugated roof, which was taken to be on the objective. After Goschen had obtained such information as he required, he took his party back again, leaving Robert Scott and Lieut.-Colonel James, of the 99tb. Field Regiment, to study the ground further. The bearing on the tin roof was 55 degrees, from which Scott calculated that the bearing of the axis of advance must be no degrees. As the objective was still invisible, this was only a rough calculation; and, in fact, for a major attack, the whole reconnaissance had been very inadequate. But surprise was paramount; and nothing more could be done.

  At 1300 hours the remaining compo rations were shared out, each man receiving tea, milk, and sugar for a day, five biscuits, a half-tin of bully, a small tin of pilchards, a spoonful of butter, a little tinned cheese, and some jam. The orders from brigade were that there were still to be no fires, which meant that the men wouldn’t get a hot drink. As they would be fighting all the next day, this was more than Robert Scott could tolerate; and he ordered a pit to be dug near the regimental aid post, six feet deep and twelve feet square. This was then roofed over and an immense pile of shavings was made. Then at dusk, when any smoke escaping wouldn’t show, a large fire was lit and the mess tins were boiled. Gleefully the men collected for their beloved char. But when Goschen turned up, to find that his orders had been flouted, he was naturally incensed, and asked Scott what on earth he thought he was up to. With his tongue in his cheek, Scott said the hot water was needed to treat jungle sores, and this produced such an explosion that it seemed likely for a moment that he would be placed under arrest. Fortunately, any such development was out of the question on the eve of a battle; and in the nick of time, Captain Mather produced a man who actually had been treated for sores. At this, Goschen cooled down again—and finally agreed to the char. In view of the events a few days later, this clash between Scott and Goschen has a peculiar irony.

  The rule of silence caused some difficulties too; company commanders had to move from platoon to platoon, whispering the orders for the attack, and after them the platoon commanders and section leaders. Most of the night had gone by before the whispering was over.

  A comprehensive fire plan lasting forty-five minutes had been laid on with Division. The two 5.5 guns which had been found in Dimapur by Pat Burke, and were manned by gunners from the division, were to shell G.P.T. Ridge ‘cap on’, with the object of making shell-holes which would provide cover during the period of consolidation. When the Norfolks had formed up ‘at the edge of the jungle’ Robert Scott was to inform Goschen, who in turn would inform Division and then immediately they would start the fire plan. The Royal Scots would block the track to the north, then on receipt of orders, move in bounds on the same axis as the Royal Norfolk. But with so many unknown factors, as Goschen remarked, the plan had to be fluid.…

  To return to the centre: John Bowles and his men were still holding out by the crossroads, beyond the D.C.’s bungalow, but only just. On the evening of the 2nd, the Japs had brought a 75-mm. gun down the road from Treasury Hill and shelled them at 300 yards’ range. All communications went, and Jock McNaught, the commanding officer, had no means of knowing how badly they were being hit. The gunners got on to the area from where they imagined the fire was coming, but failed to stop it, and things began to loo
k very serious. However, at eleven o’clock, Corporal Mansfield and two men managed to get to McNaught, through the enemy lines, with their damaged 18-set. They also brought a message from their company commander to say that things weren’t very good, and he’d been losing a lot of men. McNaught sent back a message that he’d send Alan Watts and ‘B’ Company the following morning, and Mansfield set off with another radio set to replace the damaged one. Somehow he got through. On the morning of the 3rd, the divisional artillery put down a smoke screen, aided by the battalion mortars, and the relief took place. Geoffrey White writes: ‘I confess to feeling a large lump in my throat as I watched the twenty-eight survivors of the hundred-odd of my old company clamber up the hillside to battalion headquarters. Blackened and red-eyed, John Bowles’ men had, for five and a half days, hung on by the skin of their teeth against almost overwhelming opposition in the most exposed position… they had kept the road open and had killed a large number of Japanese.’

  In daylight on the 3rd May, Sergeant Seale of the Dorsets carried out a brilliant patrol towards the tennis court. His object was to occupy the large bunker on the north-east corner, and by skilful use of ground he got to within five yards of it. This was the bunker which ‘C’ company had reduced in their first attack, and it seemed pretty certain that it hadn’t been reoccupied. Seale and his men took a good look at it and moved round to find the entrance, but failed. Then he came under heavy fire from the water tower and had to withdraw; but not before he’d had a quick look round at the lay-out of the Jap defences. This information, added to what was already known, enabled McNaught to get a much clearer picture of the situation. It also increased his respect for his opponent, who it had to be conceded ‘had a grand eye for ground’. As Geoffrey White put it: