Kohima

by Arthur Swinson

  ‘He concentrated his defence in the area of the tennis court. With a very strong post dug well in under the water tank at the south-west corner—that is below the old club-house—and strong bunkers along the south end—far end to us—and in the bank which separated the tennis court from the club square above it, he only had to wait for us to emerge on to the tennis court and let us have it…. One thing stood out a mile: it was absolutely essential either to get a medium tank on to the tennis court or manhandle a gun into such a position as to blow the devils out of their holes at very close range in support of an infantry attack.’

  But how to get a tank on the tennis court? Garwood and his sappers had been trying for a long time now and were still no nearer success. Fortunately, they hadn’t given up.

  This battle of the Dorsetshire Regiment around Charles Pawsey’s tennis court was a most extraordinary one; and without a detailed model of the ground, most difficult to understand. What one must keep in mind though is that the positions of the two armies were close, sometimes within fifteen yards, and interlocked. The Japanese positions, as usual, all supported each other; one could not get at one without being shot up from two or three others. The curious terraced conformation of the ground played an important part too; the Japs—always great diggers—had got so far in to the banks that nothing landing from the air could touch them. Artillery and mortars were quite useless. However, on the evening of the 3rd news arrived from Major Rhodes of the 149th R.A.C. that he wanted to have another crack at getting a tank up the drive to the bungalow, and Captain Jock Murrills (who had been with John Bowles at the road junction) agreed to guide him round. ‘B’ Company under Major Alan Watts were briefed for an attack, and suddenly the Dorsets were filled with new hope.

  On the 5th Brigade front things went quietly during the 3rd, the troops resting in preparation for their coming exertions during the night; but the gym shoes were causing headaches among the ‘Q’ staff. Understandably, no mention had been made of the fact that they were an operational necessity, and so the order wasn’t dealt with as a matter of top priority. However, at 1100 hours on the 3rd, the staff captain 5th Brigade received a call from ‘ADOS’, the senior ordnance officer in Dimapur, to say he’d collected 3,000 pairs together and sent them off. The staff captain reported this to Colonel Simpson, the A.Q. at Division, warning him at the same time that he’d no mules to send them up on. At this Simpson exploded, but then agreed to find the mules and send them to milestone 42, under Mervyn Preston, one of his staff. But by 1300 hours, the gym shoes still hadn’t reached Zubza, and Simpson came on the line again angrily to demand what was happening. Frantically a search began up and down the road to locate the missing lorries, which now, so it appeared, had either vanished into thin air or gone over the khud. By this time the ‘G’ Staff had joined in the flap and were threatening to cancel the whole operation, if the shoes didn’t arrive in the next half-hour. They were essential, they said; they were vital… the divisional commander was most concerned. Then, when the staff captain found himself mumbling the old nursery rhyme ‘because of a horseshoe the battle was lost….’, the convoy arrived, and was rushed forward to milestone 42. Here the precious packages of footwear were bundled into the bamboo carriers, and the carriers strapped on to the mules. The latter had been waiting some hours now and were stamping their feet and milling round in a crazy circus. The business of threading straps through holes and buckling them up was an utter nightmare, and for a while it looked as if the Pathans would take out their rifles and shoot some of the mules to stop the rot. But suddenly it was all done. And just as a message arrived from Division to say that, if something didn’t happen soon, ‘it was all off’, the leading mule led downhill towards the nala. If the episode hadn’t been so desperate, it would have been highly comical; it was certainly the kind of snag that military textbooks never allowed for.

  But the gym shoes didn’t provide the main crisis of this day. General Scoones at Imphal realized that the supply situation was becoming very serious, and even if the R.A.F. and the U.S. A.A.F. went flat out in the fairly good weather, which he hoped would prevail till the 21st May, his reserves would have fallen below the safety level. He therefore signalled Slim that his administrative situation now dictated the date by which the Imphal Road must be open. This critical date, he said, could be postponed somewhat if the ration scale were reduced, or if the airmen could fly by night as well as day. Failing that, some of the fighting troops would have to be flown out.

  At the precise moment that Scoones despatched this signal, Slim was on a visit to Stilwell, so did not receive it till the following day. Before he had time to deal with it, however, a signal came from Air Chief Marshal Sir Richard Peirse, advising that the transport aircraft on loan from the Middle East must be withdrawn by the 8th, in four days’ time. A blow of these dimensions, coming at a critical moment in the battle of Kohima, and the siege of Imphal, might have shaken a lesser man. But Slim remained cool and outwardly unperturbed. With Air Marshal Baldwin’s agreement he sent messages to Sir George Giffard and to Air Headquarters, S.E.A.C., forcibly pointing out the disastrous consequences of withdrawing these seventy-nine aircraft. Giffard, that much underrated soldier, immediately saw Mountbatten and supported Slim, saying that if the aircraft were taken he could not answer for the consequences. That afternoon, Mountbatten told Giffard that the aircraft were to be held, and that he personally took full responsibility. A few hours later, Mountbatten received a telegram from Winston Churchill, the Prime Minister, which read: ‘Let nothing go from the battle that you need for victory. I will not accept denial of this from any quarter, and will back you to the full.’

  By the time Slim heard this good news, the offensive on Kohima Ridge had been going for some hours.

  8

  Attrition on the 4th May

  At dusk the men of the Worcestershires, the Cameron Highlanders and the Lancashire Fusiliers buried their boots and put on gym shoes which by then had been taken from the mules and sorted roughly into sizes. Then just before nine o’clock the Worcestershires moved off to start picketing the tracks running down from Firs Hill, so securing the left flank of the other two battalions when they advanced. Unfortunately the moon was near the full and movement could only take place when the clouds obscured it. The Worcestershires were therefore delayed and, later on, the Camerons. The latter took four and a half hours to form up in the assembly area, although the distance from the furthest company was only one and a half miles. However, at midnight, the ‘all clear’ was given, and a message sent to Victor Hawkins. Soon the Camerons were collecting on the edge of the perimeter near the road, and Hawkins had a word with Peter Saunders, whom he reported ‘to be in good heart but not minimizing the task in front of him’. Saunders was a delightful character, with a wonderful sense of humour and a natural Highland courtesy. After some rather austere periods with previous commanders, the battalion had been very much relieved when he took them over, and though even now they hadn’t quite got accustomed to some of his unorthodox habits, they trusted him completely. Saunders had another attribute (shared with Victor Hawkins) which, it was hoped, would stand him in good stead this night: he was considered lucky.

  Just before midnight everyone was ready. Hawkins wished Saunders the best of luck, and Saunders passed an order to Captain Neil White, commanding the guerrilla platoon, who led off along the track. According to Colin Hunter, who commanded ‘D’ Company: ‘There was a ghostly moon, and patches ofmist. Our nerves were taut and we kept expecting trouble. Sometimes we heard noises and thought the Japs were around, but it was our own chaps further forward. The track zigzagged up and down and there were frequent halts as the column bunched then strung out again. The journey wasn’t very long, really… but that night and in those circumstances it seemed almost endless.’ Fortunately, the information brought back by the patrols had been accurate and the Japs were sleeping. White’s men surprised three of them, and killed them without trouble. But it was hoped that no more w
ould show up… the last thing anyone wanted was the noise of shooting.

  As already explained, the Naga Village sprawled over the high ground to the north of Kohima. There were four features strung out in a line from west to east, the third one being known as Church Knoll or Point 5120, and the last, Hunter’s Hill. These two hills, which had been terraced by the Nagas were connected by a saddle, and to the north and south of them were two features known as North Spur (thickly covered with jungle) and Gun Spur. The Camerons’ plan was for the leading two companies to occupy Naga Village up to Church Knoll, then ‘D’ Company to pass through and occupy Hunter’s Hill, while ‘C’ Company acted as a link on the saddle. All this had to be accomplished by first light. The officers had studied air photographs of all the features and hoped to locate them without difficulty; but, as they knew only too well, ground looks very different from eye-level, and especially at night.

  The advance went on steadily, if slowly. Firs Hill was passed, then hill after hill on which the Japs were sleeping. Later the leading company became conscious that there were bashas up on the left, presumably the north-western fringe of the village. The next feature was the road, a danger point if the Japs had it covered, but White’s men went across without a sound, and the companies followed, to begin scrambling up the hill. Even now there was not a sound from the Japs; no reaction whatever. The leading companies began deploying, and, as their officers located Church Knoll, began siting platoon and section positions, and occupying them. Then ‘D’ Company under Colin Hunter came forward, streaming down into the saddle, then up again on to Hunter’s Hill. Here some Japs were found sleeping in the bashas, and the Jocks killed them with the bayonet. So far, the whole operation had gone with wonderful precision, and exactly as planned—except for one thing. Before Colin Hunter and his company could dig themselves in on Hunter’s Hill, it was light.

  Having left detailed instructions with his second-in-command, ‘Bimbo’ Howard, Victor Hawkins lay sleeping for the first two hours of the operation, but at 0400 hours he woke up, to ask if there was any signal from the Camerons. Nothing had been heard at all. The only good news was of a negative kind: that no shooting had been heard, so, Hawkins records, ‘…slightly encouraged, I hoped against hope.’ His real worry now was that once the Lancashire Fusiliers moved out with Brigade Tactical headquarters, ‘they would be horribly placed if the Jap reacted violently, as by all the rules of war, he should do’. The Fusiliers would be moving or fighting with the enemy above them on the high ground, and coming down on top of them. ‘Moreover, the ground was so steep and in places so thick that to fight a controlled battle, and, if necessary, a withdrawal, would have been almost impossible.’

  The great enemy now—apart from the Japanese—was daylight, and it was approaching fast. If news didn’t come soon, Hawkins’ position would be a little short of desperate, his brigade split in two, and neither half secure. The wait was the most agonizing of his whole career. Then at 0500 hours, just as the light was coming on, word came from the Camerons. This gave the news that they had reached Naga Village without opposition and were now occupying the eastern knolls. Hawkins decided to push on with the Lancashire Fusiliers at once. He says:

  ‘It was an uncomfortable feeling moving along the road and track, right across the Jap front, knowing that he was above us and should be able to see everything…. However, things went well until we crossed the road to ascend the hill. As I reached this point there was some shooting from the side of the hill, and an alarm that the Jap was coming in. Luckily this was exaggerated. There was a small party of them but the Lancashire Fusiliers pushed them back and we went through. We had achieved what looked impossible, and completely surprised the Jap by a manœuvre which, on the face of it, was contrary to every principle of war.’

  Immediately the Lancashire Fusiliers got firm on the ground, holding the northern, western, and southern sides of the perimeter, and by 0700 hours Hawkins made contact with the Camerons in front. But now things were happening. The Jap had come out of his sleep and was beginning to fight.

  Taking a quick look round, one of the first things that Hawkins realized was that the ground looked very much bigger in reality than it had done on the map; and the task of holding the whole hill was too much for a brigade. Also, the jungle and the bashas on the spurs to the north and south provided the enemy with ideal cover from which to infiltrate or snipe. He also noticed that the saddle between Church Knoll and Hunter’s Hill could be swept by fire from both spurs. As to the village itself, Hawkins noted that it was in a foul state. ‘Thousands of flies, and filth of every description, including the innards of pigs and cows to which the Japs had helped themselves, made the surroundings disgusting.’ However, at this precise moment, hygiene had to come second to the tactical situation, for, as Hawkins could hear only too clearly, the Jap pressure on the Camerons was increasing steadily.

  Colin Hunter and his company had not long started digging in when the sniping started, from North Spur. His own men were being hit, and those of Allan Roy’s ‘C’ Company in the saddle. Then the Jap mortars opened up, and the position deteriorated even further. C.S.M. Tommy Cook was killed at this time, a great blow to the Camerons. Apart from being one of the ‘characters’ of the Regiment, he was a magnificent fighter who had distinguished himself in the first action on Bunker Hill. The 5th Brigade mortars now came into action, to try and keep the fire down, but without great success. About noon, Hunter made his way back over the saddle to find Peter Saunders, and give him the situation. After some discussion Saunders ordered that the company should hold on till just before dark, then withdraw to Church Knoll.

  The withdrawal from Hunter’s Hill, as subsequent events were to prove, was one of the great tragedies of the battle of Kohima, but Hawkins had no alternative but to sanction it. Apart from his recent observation as to the size of the ground, there was the further consideration that the Worcestershires were still back beyond Firs Hill. This meant that he couldn’t push any more troops forward, to help the Camerons, as to have done so would have offered the Japs a chance to split the brigade in two. ‘It was better, I thought [so he recorded], to make certain of holding the very important position we had won, than to grasp at more and risk losing it all.’ Even his luck had limits.

  How important the Naga Village was became immediately apparent, as Hawkins moved around, keeping an eye on the siting of the perimeter. ‘The observation from the top of the hill was magnificent. We not only overlooked the complete Kohima battlefield but right into the back of the Jap positions. Immediately below us and running away to the south was Treasury Ridge… and beyond this Garrison Hill. The road to Imphal which we were trying to open… passed behind Jail Hill, then turned south-east.1 It was in the area of Garrison Hill to G.P.T. Ridge that the heaviest fighting was taking place, and we had a grandstand view of it.’

  At the centre of that fighting was the Royal Norfolk. Leaving their position on Oaks Hill at first light, they scrambled down the steep slope, to be met by heavy small arms fire, and a message came back from the leading company commander that he was going ahead to reconnoitre. At this Robert Scott announced that he would wait ten minutes, and lay down to sleep. Before this period was up, however, word came that there was a strong bunker 100 yards ahead, which had already inflicted five casualties on the leading section. Scott therefore ordered that a company should contain the bunker, while Major Hatch with ‘D’ Company took the lead and found a way round to a flank. So the column pushed on again, till another bunker was located. This couldn’t be outflanked, so an attack was put in which cleared it, though not without casualties. The column advanced again down the spur, but unfortunately there was a track along the spine of this on which the Japs had sited a number of positions. From these they began sniping as the column passed along below them in the jungle, causing a good many casualties, and unfortunately these fell in the undergrowth, where the stretcher-bearers had a difficult time finding them. Lieut.-Colonel James of the 99th Field Regi
ment was sniped, and while being carried back on a stretcher was sniped again and killed. This sort of thing happened time after time, and the calls for stretcher-bearers became so frequent that they had to dress the casualties and leave them where they were, to be picked up later. Whatever happened, the column dared not slow down. Captain Hornor writes: ‘The feeling of complete helplessness of the winding column in single file is something not experienced… in open warfare.’ The commanders, in fact, found it so difficult to get information that they moved further and further forward. Robert Scott ended up among the leading sections.

  Fire discipline and the conservation of ammunition had been stressed during the whole campaign, and especially on this march. ‘The men were very reluctant to shoot at noise only; they waited, as taught, for a target. The target never appeared, and casualties were mounting with no apparent dividend.’ The result of this was that when Scott shouted for fire to be opened, a soldier replied: ‘But, sir, we can’t see the target!’ This reply provoked ‘a long string of imprecations’ from Scott, who promptly moved over towards the source of the fire and began hurling grenades. This action seems to have had the desired effect, so from now on every burst from the Japanese was answered with a shower of grenades from the Norfolks, and the situation improved considerably. Later on, parties of Japs appeared in the open, to be dealt with by rifle or Sten fire. Company Sergeant-Major Derry was observed to shoot down three of them, from a standing position, before they could reply. In places the undergrowth was so thick that the only method of progression was by crawling; but still the advance retained its momentum, driven on by the enormous figure of Robert Scott, bearded and satanical, swearing horribly, and carrying a sack of grenades, which he had great delight in hurling at any suspected enemy post. His great heroic spirit so infected the column that, when a bunker was charged, the men broke out into shouts and cheers, and these went echoing down the ranks in a great crescendo. The speed of Major Hatch’s column, in the lead, became so great that gaps began to appear and Scott ordered a halt to reorganize and make a fresh plan, and, incidentally, to make a temporary repair to his pipe which had been damaged during a long crawl.