"Gorkhali Ayo!"
         Gurkha Soldiers in the Battle for Imphal, 1944
                   by Manahadur Rai (M.  Gyi),
                      as told to Marty Kufus

[Ed's Intro: M. Gyi (born Manbahadur Rai) grew up in Maymyo, headquarters of the 10th Burma Gurkha Regiment, near Mandalay.  He
continued a family tradition by serving in the 3110 BGR in the China- Burma-India (CBI) theater of World War II.  Dr. Gyi is now a professor
of communications at Ohio University. He founded the American Bando Association in 1965, partly to honor the Allied soldiers who fought in
the CBI. (Bando is an ancient Burmese martial arts system.) Dr. Gyi's contribution to Command is based largely on entries he made in his wartime diary.  His recollections provide a new perspective on a pivotal battle previously chronicled in English from a solely Anglo-American perspective. The photo, maps, and OBs in the piece were also provided by Dr. Gyi.]

         My Family Both my grandfather and granduncle joined the lst Burma Infantry Regiment in 1890.  They were members of the Rai tribe
from eastern Nepal.  The Rais are descendents of a Tibetan tribe which migrated from that region several thousand years ago.  When Burma was
taken by the British in 1886, many men from the Rai tribe were recruited to serve in their army.

         From 1890 to 1915, both my grandfather and granduncle were assigned to numerous expeditions against the rebellious tribes in Burma.  They also fought for Great Britain in Egypt, Gallipoli and Mesopotamia during World War 1. My grandfather, with the 2110 Burma Gurkha Regiment (BGR), died of wounds he suffered in August 1915, at the Battle of Hill Q on Sari Bair Ridge.  My granduncle, though seriously wounded, survived.

         My father and my uncle joined the 10th BGR in 1923. They also were assigned to numerous operations against the rebellious tribes on
the frontiers of northern Burma, northeastern India and southwestern China. They became acquainted with the languages and customs of the
mountain people of Arakan, Naga, Chin, Kachin, Shan and Yunnan regions.

         In 1936, both my father and uncle became Viceroy's Commissioned Officers (VCOs), with the rank of Subadar (Captain).  My family was very
proud when my older brother was graduated from the Indian Military Academy (IMA) in Dehra Dun in 1939, and became a jemadar (Lieutenant).

         My childhood was filled with the sounds, sights and smells of soldiers.  But their tales of battles against the Pathans, Afghans,
Nagas, Germans, Turks and others did not inspire me.  Their daily military drills and inspections bored me, and their

         [ picture
         Dr.  Gyi presents a highly polished kukri whose slender design was favored by the Rai tribesmen in the 10th Gurkha Regiment.
         Also displayed is a symbolic arrangement of kukris, representing a Gurkha patrol, along with two commando daggers,
         representing a British officer and NCO.  Some of Gyi's kukris are, according to animistic belief, "spirited" with the souls
         of the enemy soldiers they killed.]

monthly rituals with kukris, the curved swords of the Gurkhas, terrified me.

          I never wanted to become a soldier or an officer like the members of my family.  My father realized my strong educational interests and so sent me to a prestigious school in Darjeeling, India. My youthful ambition was to attend a medical college in Delhi, and maybe later study at Cambridge or Oxford in England.  But the war shattered my dreams.

I Join Up

         For the first time in my life, I witnessed my father, my uncle and my brother weeping openly. They had just heard the announcement that
the British surrendered Singapore to the Japanese.  The date was 15 February 1942.  Several of our relatives were in the 2nd and 9th Gurkha
Regiments in the British garrison defending Singapore.  We had also heard numerous reports of Japanese atrocities.  We wondered whether we
would ever see our relatives again.

         It was my brother who vigorously urged me to enlist, as his own regiment was being ordered to move south to defend Rangoon, the capital
of Burma.  That city fell on 9 March 1942.  On that day I decided to join a field ambulance unit.

         The British were desperate.  Any loyal and able-bodied man from the military families was recruited without rigorous screening.  I was
immediately assigned to the 47th Field Ambulance Unit of the British 17th Infantry Division, then defending the city of Prome.  These British, Indian and Gurkha troops were trapped by the Japanese 33rd Division. (Later, the Gurkhas would face this same division in the battle for Imphal.)

         Gallantly, the British 17th Division fought its way out of the encirclement, but the situation continued to deteriorate on all  fronts.  Chinese divisions under the command of US Lt.  Gen.  Joseph Stilwell, defending the Burma Road, collapsed under the assault of the Japanese 56th Division. British General Alexander, with his headquarters at Maymyo, ordered a general retreat.

         Maymyo and Mandalay fell to the Japanese on 30 April. Thousands of Allied troops withdrew to the safety of Imphal on the northeastern frontier of India.  Hundreds of wounded, both native and European, had to be left behind.  Countless civilians, young and old, collapsed from exhaustion, starvation and disease.

         This overland retreat to India through the jungle-covered mountains of Burma was the longest and most humiliating defeat in the annals of British military history. Over 100,000 died during the long march; most of them were refugees. The screams of starving children; the groans of the sick, wounded and old; the pleas of hundreds of wounded soldiers we had to leave behind on jungle roads they still haunt me in my dreams.

I Join the Infantry

        Gen. William Slim took over command of the British 14th Army, and he systematically reorganized it to meet the Japanese threat. Thousands of recruits - Indians, Gurkhas, Sikhs and others - joined newly formed infantry divisions. I joined my brother's unit, the 1/10 Gurkha Regiment, in May 1942.

  In June, I was transferred to the new 23rd India Division. Over 80 percent of the men in this division were recruits, inexperienced and untrained in jungle warfare.

  There were many teenagers in our unit. Some were only 16 years old, and I was one of them. The British were desperate to strengthen the
defense forces with young and loyal soldiers. Our Gurkha drill sergeants were extremely stern and demanded total obedience and discipline. Total
commitment to duties, courage under fire, and unquestioned loyalty to Great Britain were indoctrinated in us. There had been a growing
anti-British senti ment throughout India that had been further inflamed by propaganda from Japan, along with many nationalistic Indian political
parties and the pro-Japanese Indian National Army led by S. Chandra Bose.

        The main objectives of these anti-British groups were to weaken the support for the Allied cause and pave the way for the Japanese
invasion of India. The Japanese 15th Army had sent probes against the Allied defenses in northern Burma and into India. A major Japanese drive
toward Delhi was anticipated.

        I was assigned to the 3rd Platoon/C Company, 3110th BGR, in the 37th Infantry Brigade.  In our brigade, there were two other Gurkha
units: the 313 Queen's Own Gurkha Rifles, and the 315 Royal Gurkha Rifles.  Our brigade was segregated from other Punjab, Patiala, Mahratta
and, Rajputan units.  All non-white troops lived in "basha" (bamboo or canvas barracks), while the British officers and NCOs lived in separate
quarters made of brick and wood. But even though there was segregation between the different races, tribes, classes and castes, we all felt we
had one purpose: defeat the Japanese. Tragic Fate of an RAF Pilot

         During one of our patrols across the Yu River, a branch of the Chindwin, we saw buzzards circling above a small clearing along a jungle trail. Lt. J.F. Burns, who was the leader of the patrol, ordered me to investigate the area.

         After crawling and running from cover to cover, I saw a human figure tied to a tree.  I circled the area several times to make sure the Japanese had not set an ambush.  I approached the figure and became sick.  The naked body had several deep wounds from swords and bayonets.
I vomited as I signaled the patrol.

         Lt. Burns shook with anger when he saw the figure.  He walked away into the bushes after ordering the men to remove the body.  Young Gurkhas stood and stared at the mutilated corpse.  I covered my nose with a handkerchief and removed the wires around the neck of the dead
man.  Lt.  Burns suddenly reappeared and pushed me away.

         "It may be booby trapped," he said.  The corpse fell forward and two grenades rolled down from behind the back.  We scattered for
cover.  The grenades exploded, but none of us was injured.  Quick thinking by the young British officer had saved our lives.

         We dug a grave and buried the body parts; Lt.  Burns said a short prayer.  We left the area for fear the Japanese were nearby.  We
learned later the mutilated body was that of an RAF pilot who had parachuted after his plane was shot down.  He was captured by the
Japanese and tortured to death.  They left the disfigured body as a stern message for the British.

Hand-to-Hand Combat

         During another patrol in the same area, we collided with an advancing Japanese reconnaissance team on a narrow tiger trail that wound through tall elephant grass along a sharp bend of the river. After a heavy rain the roar from the rapids could cover the sounds of Dakota and Spitfire aircraft; neither the Japanese nor our men had heard or seen each other approach.

         Suddenly we stood and stared at each other in disbelief - only a few yards apart.  Then the Japanese officer drew his samurai sword and
charged, screaming, "Tsukkome! (Charge!), Banzai!  Banzai!" We Gurkhas yelled back, "Gorkhali ayo! (The Gurkhas are coming!)" Swords, bayonets and kukris clashed furiously.  Yells, screams and groans from the combatants now drowned the roar of the rapids.  After a few minutes of fierce fighting, the Japanese ran off, leaving 15 dead.

         We lost six, including a British NCO from the lst Seaforth Highlanders.  Another suffered a bayonet wound in the arm.  The surviving members of our patrol quickly collected maps, letters, photos, a radio and other items from the blood-drenched bodies of the Japanese. We carried our fallen men on our backs.  It took us over two days to return to base.

         I was hospitalized with malarial fever, two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder.

My Brother's Visit

         My brother visited me at the field hospital.  I confided in him the terror of my first experience in close combat, and my nightmares
about the RAF pilot. He encouraged me, saying that the spirits of the 10th Gurkha Regiment would always give us courage and protection.  He
instructed me to repeat after him the Gurkha proverb, "Kaphar hunu bhanda mornu ramro." (It is better to die than to be a coward.) I repeated the proverb several times more as a prayer, hoping to calm my fears.

         The most interesting news from my brother was about our uncle. He had joined the 77th Infantry Brigade under Maj.  Gen.  Orde Wingate.
This unit came to be known as the "Chindits," a guerilla force.  Its 3,000 British and Gurkha troops used "long range penetration" tactics to
destroy Japanese communication and transportation lines in the occupied territories in northern Burma.  My uncle was assigned to take charge of
an ammunition and supply team consisting of some 25 mules.

         "I don't understand how or why our uncle got promoted to command the mules," my brother joked.  "He doesn't even speak their language." We laughed together.

Kukri Training and the Death Ceremony

         During the previous months and years, we had been intermittently drilled by Gurkha NCOs on the various uses of the kukri. But now, after I left hospital and my platoon was put under the leadership of a Gurkha jernadur, Bakhatbahadur Rai, we began training several hours each day with the sword.  With kukris we cut bamboo trees of all sizes to strengthen and toughen our hands.  The bamboo we cut we also used to build our living quarters, shelters and latrines.

         We learned how to cut, slash, chop and thrust while jumping into trenches, running up and down hill, and crawling into bunkers.  We trained in parrying bayonets and blocking long swords. Our jemadur told us that all of the Gurkhas in our brigade were being given similar
training.

         One evening our battalion commander, Lt.  Col. Cosens, somberly told us the British POWs from Singapore were being brutally treated by
the Japanese.  Thousands had died in slave labor camps from disease, starvation and torture.  More than 200 Australians, British and Americans were beheaded, and many Gurkha POWs had also been shot, bayoneted and beheaded.

         I wept.  I knew then I would never see my relatives again. Many men in our company remained silent with anger and hate.

         At midnight, Jemadar Bakhatbahadur led us several miles along a jungle trail into the Valley of Caves.  These natural caves were located
to the northeast of Shunagu.  When we got there, we were surprised to see a large gathering of other Gurkha soldiers from other battalions of
the brigade.

         A Subadar from the 315 Royal Gurkha Rifles led us in a sacred blood oath ceremony. (This was done in great secrecy.  The British
disapproved of our traditional "pagan" customs and rituals.) In a priestly voice, he called on Shiva (the destroyer of evil), Kali (goddess of destruction), and Yama (the king of death).  We raised our kukris and cut our fingers and smeared the blood on the blades.  We formed a long column.  One by one, each man thrust his kukri into a small flame placed before the Subadar.  He sprinkled the holy ashes on our heads.

         Steel and spirit became one in this way; our souls united with our kukris.  We made a solemn oath; the shame of Singapore would be avenged; the Japanese would be defeated.

         My father had once told me of such sacred ceremonies, always performed in great secrecy by traditional Gurkha warriors before going
into battle. I felt energized by the spirits.

The Japanese Enter India

         The Imphal plain nestles between two Himalayan mountain ranges that rise to 6,000 feet above sea level.  Imphal itself is a strategic border town near Burma.  It was a major supply depot for Allied forces in the CBI.  The town of Kohima lies about 60 miles to the north of Imphal.  Three all-weather roads led to the Imphal plain from Burma: Tiddim Road to the south, Tamu Road from the southeast, and Tamanthi Road from the northwest.

         There were six military airfields in the area: one in Kohima, one near Kangla (headquarters of the British IV Corps), two in Imphal, with the remaining two at Wingjing and Palel, south of there.

         In February 1944, the chief of staff of the Japanese Imperial Burma Area Army planned the invasion of  India, codenamed "Operation U-Go." There were three operational objectives: 1) secure the major roads and rail lines into Assam (which carried vital supplies to China); 2) deny strategic areas for the Allied forces' preparation for the retaking of Burma; and 3) establish a staging area for the Japanese advance on Delhi.

         The Japanese command had supreme confidence in the invincibility of its soldiers.  Gen.  Kawabe boasted his forces would capture Imphal within three weeks of the offensive's start date.  He would make the conquest of India a birthday gift to the Emperor Hirohito.

         The Japanese 15th Army included the 15th Division, under Lt. Gen.  Yamaguchi; the 31st Division, under Lt.  Gen.  Sato; and the 33rd Division, under Lt. Gen.  Tanaka.  Two additional "mixed" infantry brigades, under Maj.  Gens.  Miyazaki and Yamamoto, were attached to the
31st and 33rd Divisions.  Other units supporting the Japanese were a division from the Indian National Army and a regiment from the Burma Independent Army, both anti-British, nationalist forces.  The combined enemy force totaled more than 100,000  men.

         The strength of these Japanese divisions varied from 15,000-22,000.  Each had three regiments with 2,600 troops in three battalions.  The Japanese didn't use regular brigades here, except for their special operations units, such as the 24th and 72nd Independent Mixed Brigades.  Three regiments were considered to make up an "infantry brigade group."

         The Imphal plain was defended by Gen.  G. Scoone's British IV Corps, which had the 17th, 20th and 23rd Indian Infantry Divisions; and
Maj.  Gen M. Stopford's XXXIII Corps, which held the 2nd and 7th (British) Infantry Divisions, along with six special operations brigades.

Assault on Imphal Plain

         By the middle of March, the Japanese had crossed the Chindwin River using boats, pontoons and rafts.  They entered India along three
main axes.  Their 31st Division attacked the British outposts around Kohima from the north.  The 15th

        Division blocked the roads between Kohima and Imphal.  The 33rd Division moved up from the south, along the Tiddirn and Tamu Roads, to
drive directly on Imphal.  The British were stunned by the speed of these advances.

        The Japanese had transported their artillery and equipment across rugged mountains and jungles using more than 2,000 mules and bullocks. Thousands of slave laborers were also forced to carry supplies and construct roads, bridges and fortifications.

        With assistance from native guides, Japanese light infantry regiments moved along jungle trails to surround British outposts on major roads. The Japanese 31st and 15th Divisions soon laid siege to Kohima.  The 77th Indian Division was trapped on Tiddim Road by the Japanese 33rd Division. Gen.  Slim, commander of the British 14th Army, decided to meet the Japanese assault by pulling back his forward divisions.  He called this a "defensive-offensive" strategy. His troops would withdraw and then redeploy around the Imphal plain in such a way as to force the Japanese to fight at the very end of their lengthy supply lines.  If his troops could hold out until June, the monsoon season would help defeat the overex tended invaders.

Battle of Fir Tree Hill

        On 22 March, the 37th Gurkha Brigade was ordered to break the Japanese resistance to the withdrawal of the 17th Indian Division along the Tiddim Road.  The 17th had abandoned thousands of tons of equipment and supplies, including several hundred head of cattle, at their depot. The Japanese, in turn, captured that booty while continuing their attacks against the retreating division. My unit marched along the Tiddim Road, which wound through hundreds of hills and ridges.  I wondered what the names were the British had given these hills.  I asked one English NCO who was in my column.  He pointed his finger at the horizon and said, "There is Left Hill, Right Hill, Lower Hill, Higher Hill, Steep Hill, Pimple Ridge, Nipple Knoll, Booby Ridge, and Baldy Ridge."

        I looked at him in disbelief.  I decided then that behind every stiff British upper lip there must also be a sense of humor.

        If a mountain didn't have a strange name, the British gave it an alpha-numeric symbol.  In this way some of the hills along the Tiddim and Tamu Roads were called "MS-I," "MS-2," "MS-3," up through "MS-555." Some of the ridges around Ukrul were identified as "M-33-z," "R-106-a," "BB-4-q," etc. Our battalion was ordered to "exterminate" the Japanese on a heavily fortified feature called "Fir Tree Hill." It had two ridges, "Left Hill," and "Right Hill." From those ridges the Japanese had blocked the Tiddim Road for several miles and were attempting to crush the 17th Division.

        In three columns, lst, 2nd and 3rd Platoons advanced halfway up the hill without opposition. Suddenly the Japanese opened fire with automatic weapons from two bunkers near the top.  Several men from 2nd Platoon fell.  Then jemadar Bakhat- bahadur Rai, leader of our platoon,
ordered the men to flank the bunker in front of us.  We crawled toward the summit.

        Three or four Japanese from an adjacent trench stood up and threw grenades.  The machinegun from the bunker suddenly turned on us,
wounding one and pinning us down.  Then one fleet-footed Gurkha, Narpati Rai, stood up with his kukri and charged, yelling "Gorkhali ayo!" and
jumped into the enemy trench.  Inspired by his daring example, we all fired our weapons and charged, while lst and 2nd Platoons rushed the
other bunker.

        Left Hill was secured.  Our platoon had suffered one dead and three wounded.  The other platoons had also suffered light casualties. The Japanese lost 32 men, most of whom we had cut down in their trenches with our kukris.  Our jemadar was very pleased with our first battle
performance.

         From the newly-won bunkers we watched the intense battle raging on Right Hill.  British tanks from the 7th Cavalry, along with our B
Company, cooperated in attacking the more formidable enemy positions there. The Japanese answered with mortars, heavy machineguns and grenades.  One tank was crippled by a Japanese soldier armed with explosives.  Then another Japanese team began moving to destroy the
other tanks, but they were cut down by the Gurkhas from the forward platoon.

         RAF planes, and artillery, had to be called in to help dislodge the well-entrenched Japanese.  Soon thick and dark smoke engulfed the
whole ridge.  Still the Japanese did not yield.

         After three hours of fierce fighting, Lt.  P.P. Dunkley, commander of B Company, led the final assault on the enemy bunkers.  The Gurkhas again shouted their battle cry as they engaged in hand-to-hand combat.  We wanted to help them, but our orders were to "hold Left Hill." So from our positions we shouted, "Gorkhali ayo!  Gorkhali ayo!" to give them moral support.

         The Japanese finally retreated off into the jungle, and Right Hill was secured.  There were heavy casualties on both sides there.  Our platoon was detailed to help evacuate the dead and wounded, because several members of the ambulance unit had been killed by Japanese snipers.  Bodies of the Gurkhas lay next to their fallen enemies.

         From one large bunker, I pulled out the body of a Gurkha who was covered by seven dead Japanese.  He had killed them with his kukri before he was bayoneted to death.  Many of the dead were our friends.

         Lt. Dunkely was awarded the Military Cross medal for his outstanding leadership in securing Fir Tree Hill. We were proud to see the Union Jack flying on the hill.  We saluted the flag and paid tribute to our fallen men.

         Lt. Dunkely became the pride of the 3110 Burma Gurkha Rifles. This young British officer had gained the love and respect of the Gurkhas serving under him. We made him an honored member of the Rai and Lirnbu tribes.

         The Battle of Nipple Knoll

         The next night a large force of Japanese troops counterattacked.  They quickly established roadblocks between MS-96 and MS-97.  Our 3rd Battalion, along with two companies of the 315 RGR, were isolated at MS-100 and came under intense attack.  The Japanese were repulsed, but they succeeded in capturing a small hill, causing serious problems for the left flank of our battalion.

         The British NCOs had named this hill "Nipple Knoll." Havildar (sergeant) Dilbahadur Limbu, of C Company, was ordered to retake it. The lst and 2nd Platoons were called into action, and my 3rd Platoon was to provide close support.  After repeated attacks, the enemy finally withdrew to the next hill.  The two attacking platoons lost more than half their men, and the Japanese losses were equally high.

         Our platoon moved in to secure Nipple Knoll.  We removed the  documents and papers from the Japanese bodies strewn around their perimeter.  We discovered their orders were to seize Tiddim Road, annihilate the still retreating 17th Indian Division, and attack Imphal from the south.

         That night the Japanese again counterattacked with great force. After firing mortars from a nearby hill, they attacked our positions in two waves, screaming, "Banzai!  Banzai!  Banzai!" Our machineguns, rifles and grenades repelled their first assault, but not before several reached our trenches.  They were immediately cut down.

         The Japanese withdrew, regrouped and attacked again, but we held our position tenaciously.

         Later that same night, the Japanese succeeded in surrounding our hill, isolating us from the battalion.  We could hear the movement of the enemy all around us.  They were preparing for a third assault. We were low on ammunition and the men were totally exhausted.

         "Men, draw your kukris.  We will kill as many of them as possible before they kill us," ordered the Havildar.  The thought of retreat or surrender never entered our minds, but I had serious doubts we could last much longer.

         To our great relief, D Company suddenly came to our rescue. They had silently flanked the advancing Japanese and then drove them off
the side of our hill.  Our platoon had suffered two more dead and four wounded.

         Havildar Dilbahadur Limbu was awarded a medal - of what type I cannot recall - for his leadership in the defense of the hill against superior enemy forces.

Dogged Defense

         During the first week of April, relentless assaults by the Japanese 15th and 32nd Divisions trapped the British garrison in Kohima. The British IV Corps based near Kangla, north of Imphal, was also isolated.  The Japanese expected an easy surrender from the British, as at Hong Kong, Singapore, Malaya and Burma.  But this was the new British 14th Army, led by the dogged and brilliant Gen.  William Slim. All of us soldiers in this new army were well-disciplined, and trained and equipped for jungle fighting.  We had no intention of repeating the "shame of Singapore."

         In mid-May, our battalion was sent to the Shenam Pass, southeast of Imphal.  It was a strategic area that controlled the Tamu Road.  The Japanese had made repeated attempts to gain control of this vital pass. The whole region was a tangle of high ridges and peaks covered by thick jungle.  I was amazed that men had been able to construct such a winding road through such rugged hills, some of which reached over 5,000 feet about sea level.

         I wondered again what names the British had given these hills. Interestingly, they had used mostly Mediterranean names, such as Cyprus,
Malta, Gibraltar, Sardinia, Crete East and Crete West, but there was also a "Penis Peak" and "Knipple Knob." Some others were called "Nippon
Hill," "Gurkha Ridge," "Scraggy Hill," "Flat Top Hill," "Pyramid Hill," "Lynch Hill," Garrison Hill," "Slim Peak," and so on.  The British indeed had a strange sense of humor.

         All these hills were infested with Japanese troops. After fierce fighting, units from our brigade succeeded in occupying some of the more important hills controlling Shenam Pass.

Defense of Scraggy Hill

         On 15 May our battalion was ordered to relieve the 3/3rd at Scraggy Hill.  During the previous week, there had been much fighting in that area.  Many of the dead had not been removed; they were scattered along the trails and hillsides.  The sight of vultures and crows tearing the flesh of rotting corpses, and the stench of decay made us ill. Breathing became difficult.

         We tried to clear the corpses from our defensive sector by dragging them down to a gorge some 100 yards away.  There were several
headless Japanese bodies. We found two heads covered with engorged leeches. Pieces of arms, fingers and intestines were swarmed over by
thousands of insects.  One Japanese had a kukri stuck in his helmeted head.  We found another with a kukri lodged between his legs.  We could
not count the number of bodies we removed from the perirneter.  Kukris, bayonets, swords, rifles, helmets, ammunition belts, boots and canteens
littered the trenches and bunkers.  It was a vision of hell.

         Darkness came quickly, and we had hardly finished consolidating the area when enemy shells began exploding around us, wounding several
men.  But where were they coming from?

         Our night patrol soon spotted Japanese firing mortars from the gorge where we'd just piled the corpses. They had established two batteries in the gorge.  Our company commander, Lt.  Miller, ordered us to silence them.  We crawled down the slope, into that unbearable stench.  We plugged our noses with crushed leaves and mud, and breathed through our mouths.  I wondered how the Japanese could endure the stench
of their own dead soldiers.

         We saw a Japanese recon team of five men moving past us up the hill.  We could also see flashes from the gorge as they continued to
launch mortar shells.  Men from the forward team flanked the enemy scouts and silenced them with kukris.  We moved farther down slope and
threw grenades into the ravine.  The Japanese quickly withdrew.

         Later that night the Japanese shifted their attacks to D Company, which was dug in next to us. They came in waves, firing at close range.  The Gurkhas from D Company didn't waver, even though many of them were wounded and killed.

         The determined enemy then staged another attack. This time they tried to overrun our position with two companies.  They screamed,
"Nippon banzai!" The Gurkhas, instead of remaining in the trenches, jumped up and attacked the advancing Japanese with their kukris.  We cut
down many of them in hand-to-hand fighting.

         The surprised Japanese, who had not expected such an instant counterattack, fled into the jungle.  One Japanese squad, though - in a
state of confusion - ran into our perimeter.  We cut them down with kukris.

         The next morning we cheered and applauded the forward platoons of D Company for their daring kukri charge, which we could now see had
killed more than 90 enemy troops.  These men were truly the pride of the 10th Gurkha Regiment.

Death of Lt.  Burns

         Unlike some other British officers, Lt.  J.F. Burns enjoyed mingling with the young Gurkhas.  Often he would join us at our mess and try our food.  He seemed to develop a taste for curried ahloo (potato) and rice.  With some difficulty, he attempted to learn the dialects of the Rais and Limbu tribes.  I translated for him on numerous occasions.

         He taught us how to build rafts, cross rivers and swim in a fast current.  Later, he trained us in reconnaissance patrolling and ambush tactics.  It was Lt.  Burns who had saved me and some other young Gurkhas from the booby trapped body of the RAF pilot.

         On the night of 20 or 21 May, A Company, positioned at Scraggy, came under heavy attack by an enemy unit from the 72nd Mixed Brigade.
We made a stubborn defense against waves of Japanese assaults.  During the action, Lt.  Burns was cut down by a Japanese sword.  The next
morning, this gallant young British officer died in the battalion field hospital.

         His spirit united with the souls of the fallen Gurkhas who had served him loyally.

Assault on Gibraltar Hill

         On 24 May, the Japanese flag was flying on Gibraltar Hill. They had counterattacked in force and retaken it from the 5th Battalion of the 6th Rajputana Rifle Regiment.  There had been intense fighting on Gibraltar.  The hillside was scarred with bomb craters, burning tanks, twisted cannon, fallen trees, smoldering logs and rotting corpses.

         Gibraltar Hill was more than 5,000 feet high and had three plateaus.  The Tamu Road was built along the south side of the hill. The northern and western slopes were steep.  The Japanese bunkers and networks of trenches were at the crest, in an excellent position to shell any British convoys on the road. The RAF bombings and our artillery barrages had not weakened their fortifications.

         The operational commander, Maj.  H.G. Edwards, ordered our company to retake the hill.  The Ist Platoon was ordered to advance from the south side; our 3rd Platoon was to provide close support, and the 2nd Platoon was put in reserve.

         As soon as the Gurkhas reached the second plateau, the enemy launched their mortars and grenades.  Nine Gurkhas from the 1st fell immediately.

         Most of the trees in that area had been blown down and burned by the previous artillery shellings.  There was little cover for the men.  The lst Platoon tried to advance, but was pinned down by automatic weapons fire.  We watched in despair when only four Gurkhas withdrew to take cover in a bomb crater.  The rest were all dead or wounded.

         Our platoon, under jemadar Bakhatbahadur, was positioned near the northern slope.  The jemadar sent six men to reinforce the remnants
of the 1st Platoon in the crater.  They were ordered to fire at will to provide cover.  Our platoon was then quickly organized into two assault
teams., Team 1 had 12 men under the jemadar, and would climb the northern slope.  Team 2 had 10 men and was to approach from the western
slope.

         We were about 100 yards away from the enemy.  The men in the crater split up into three fire teams, each taking separate positions  A thick mist had settled on top of the hill, concealing our advance. Our three fire teams intensified their cross fire, providing additional cover for us.

         When we reached the crest, we drew our kukris and waited for Team 2 to reach the ridge from the western slope.  The enemy trenches
were only a few yards away.

         The machineguns from the bunkers riddled the bomb craters, smoldering logs, and a burning tank, where the Gurkha fire teams were
positioned. From the trenches, the Japanese soldiers continued to throw grenades down the hill.

         Suddenly the jemadar stood up and screamed, "Gorkhali ayo!" We all yelled in unison, and followed him into the Japanese trenches. We
rushed through the maze of narrow trenches, thrusting, slashing and chopping at the surprised enemy.  Some tried to withdraw into the bunkers, but ran into other Gurkhas and were chopped down instantly.

         Then they counterattacked from the western slope. One Japanese commander, with his sword drawn, rushed out from the main bunker
screaming, "Banzai!  Banzai! Banzai!" His men, with fixed bayonets, also charged and tried to flank us.  We jumped out of the trenches to meet
them.

         The Japanese officer cut down one Gurkha, then another.  But then, just as quickly, the Jemadar sprang forward and decapitated the
enemy officer. Then the jemadar yelled, "Gorkhali ayo!  No prisoners!" And we responded, "No prisoners!  Gorkhali ayo!" The resultant
collisions were of steel against steel, steel against flesh, and flesh against flesh - it was a killing frenzy among fanatic warriors.

         Our Lord Shiva, goddess Kali, and Yama witnessed this brutal hand-to-hand fighting.  It lasted about 15 minutes.  Many Japanese escaped down the south slope, leaving 125 of their dead behind.  Our platoon lost two men killed and three wounded. Our faces and uniforms were drenched with blood.

         The jemadar lowered the Japanese flag on the main bunker.  Our platoon stood at attention.  Tears streamed down our faces.  On 24 May
1944, the 3rd Platoon of A Company of the 3110 Gurkha Regiment had secured Gibraltar Hill.

         Our commanding British officer, Maj. Edwards, said, "Bloody good show men!" He congratulated our platoon and declared that our performance was one of the finest examples of courage in the regirnent's history.  Later, our jemadar was awarded the Military Cross for his
outstanding leadership and courage that day.

Monsoon Season

         The Japanese made no major attempt to retake Gibraltar Hill, except for occasional shelling and probes by small units.  During June, our battalion left Gibraltar and moved to Recce Hill, a few miles down Tamu Road.  Other Gurkha battalions, the 313rd and 315th, were also moved to other hills.

         Monsoon season had begun.  The weather became extremely bad; it rained for five straight days. These torrential rains caused flash floods that washed away many bunkers, shelters and wooden bridges. Unpaved roads and trails on the hills and in the valleys became gushing streams.  Bomb craters became ponds and lakes infested with mosquitoes, insects, leeches and poisonous snakes.  Transporting supplies to troops in remote outposts became impossible.  Road crews were constantly repairing or rebuilding bridges destroyed by landslides.

         Many men in our battalion suffered from malaria, typhus, dysentery, carbuncles, pleurisy, pneumonia, foot rot, and other tropical diseases.  About ten percent of the men became totally incapacitated and had to be evacuated to Imphal for treatment.

         We knew the Japanese troops were also suffering from these same diseases.  Our intelligence reports indicated their field hospitals in Burma were overcrowded with wounded and sick.  Their long supply lines to India from Burma could not be fully maintained during the monsoons. Our Gurkha special forces had been attacking their supply lines across the border.  Also, the RAF planes bombed the enemy's railroad lines, convoys and supply depots.  Some of the Japanese units began to slaughter their mules to feed their soldiers.  Some raided villages for supplies.

         And we were only just moving into July, the height of the monsoon season.

Retaking Scraggy Hill

         The Japanese badly needed a victory.  They were determined to open the Tamu Road so their troops could advance northward and capture
the supplies they needed from our dumps in Imphal.  Throughout June and July, the Japanese continued to attack Gurkha positions along the Shenam Pass.  Several Japanese units from their 33rd and 15th Divisions succeeded in recapturing Scraggy Hill, along with some of the
surrounding hills.

         Battalions 313, 315 and 3110 were called into action. The 313rd was ordered to secure Crete West and Crete East.  The 315th was to retake Lynch and Flat Top.  The 3110th was assigned to recapture Scraggy, Pimple and Malta.

         B Company was ordered to take down the Japanese flag flying atop Scraggy.  They knew this would not be easy.  The condition of the hill was extremely poor.  The Japanese had removed the large trees from around the hill to reinforce their bunkers, machinegun nests and trenches at the summit.

         Scraggy was 5,000 feet high, and had five plateaus.  Every plateau was dotted with bomb craters filled with mud and water.  Some of the decaying bodies remained only half-buried in several craters. Vultures and crows perched on burned trees, waiting for their next meal. The hill looked dark and eerie, even during the day.  The stench of death made our men shudder.  How many men had fought and died already on this bloody hill?

         The lst and 2nd Platoons of B Company advanced in two separate columns.  I was placed in charge of the 3rd Platoon from A Company,
which was detailed to carry some 16 ladders for use in scaling the cliffs near the summit.  The rain from the previous night made the slopes treacherous to climb.

         The men were slipping and falling as they crawled up the muddy ridge.  A machinegun blast hit a Gurkha from the lst Platoon.  His body slid almost 200 yards down hill, and was soon followed by three more. The Japanese had our advancing columns in a crossfire, but we struggled through it to the next plateau, suffering more casualties as we went.

         Conditions on the third plateau were even worse. There were several sharp slopes near the top.  They were muddy and treacherous, with no cover for the men. One Gurkha scout clawed his way up to investigate the next ridge.  A burst of machinegun fire exploded his face and chest.  His body was thrown back, and it rolled down the hill and splashed into a crater already containing two decaying bodies.  I had serious doubts we could scale those slopes without being cut down. To our great relief, we were ordered not to advance further, and to secure the lower slopes.

         That night the Japanese shelled all our battalion's positions with their mountain artillery and mortars. At around 1:00 a.m. they made a series of coordinated attacks against C Company on Malta, B Company on Pimple, and D Company on Pyramid.  The Japanese also attacked the 313rd
on Crete West and Crete East, and the 315th on Lynch and Flat Top Hills.

         The battle raged all around us.  We could hear the battle cry "Nippon banzai!" reverberating through the hills, followed by the explosions of mortars and grenades.  Soon we heard "Gorkhali ayo!" to the left of us and then also to the right.  We also began shouting.

         The fighting went on for a few hours.  Then silence settled over the hills and the enemy withdrew.  The Gurkhas had successfullyrepulsed the attacks, but the Japanese flag was still flying on Scraggy Hill.

         The next day the rain came.  The assault on Scraggy was postponed for two days.  The men slept, ate and waited on the slopes, with little cover.  Our uniforms were wet and muddy.  Many suffered from diseases, exhaustion and foot rot.  Mosquitoes at night, leeches in the day, and the stench of rotting corpses challenged the fortitude of the young Gurkhas.  But we were determined to retake Scraggy Hill.

         On 23 July, three RAF planes strafed the top of the hill, dropped several bombs and then disappeared into the dark, rolling, monsoon clouds.  More rain would come soon.  Thick mist was beginning to  form on the mountain range.

         The orders came: take Scraggy before the rain began.

         The pioneer (demolition) platoon, under B Company, moved up the hill followed by my 3rd Platoon with the ropes and ladders.  We reached
the third plateau without much opposition, except for occasional shots from a sniper.  A Japanese sharpshooter moved from crater to crater,
taking our men out from the front and then from the side.  He killed four of our men before he was taken out by sniper hunters from the Pioneers.

         We crawled up to the fourth plateau without a single shot from the Japanese - probably because of poor visibility at the top.  Thick mist began to settle. The final assault would be difficult.  The slope was steep and slippery.

         We had to link five ladders to reach the rim of the summit.  We positioned three ladders approximately 30 yards apart.  The first assault team from the pioneers scaled the ladders.  A sudden loud blast of automatic weapons and rifles mowed them down as soon as they had reached the crest.

         A second team climbed the ladders, and also was hit, suffering heavy casualties.  Some of their bodies were hanging on the ladders; some slid down the slope.  The wounded painfully clawed their way back, helped by our men.  Suddenly the Japanese appeared on top of the slope and began throwing grenades down on us, killing more pioneers and men from my platoon.  We fired back as we withdrew to safety.

         A runner was dispatched to inform our commanders of the seriousness of the situation.  Soon the mortar teams from our battalion went into action.  Steady explosions of shells on top of the hill forced the Japanese back into their bunkers and trenches.  The ambulance unit was sent to remove the dead and wounded.  The pioneers had suffered some 80 percent casualties.

         How glad I was to see the 2nd Platoon from A Company and the lst and 2nd Platoons from B Company coming up the hill for a combined
assault! Under the cover of our steady mortar barrage and the thick mist, the platoons began to scale the ladders, which we repositioned farther apart.  This time we succeeded in reaching the top with only light casualties.

         We immediately fanned out and charged the two forward bunkers with grenades, then kukris, killing some 32 defenders.  Many Japanese
escaped to the main bunker at the summit.  Our men regrouped and quickly removed the dead and wounded.  Several jemadars and Havildars were among the casualties.

         Jemadar Kharkabahadur Rai, from 1st Platoon of B Company, took charge and divided the men into three assault teams.  I remembered this
tactic, which we had used on Gibraltar Hill.  Our team was assigned to follow the trench line, and the other two were to flank the bunkers on the summit.

         The heavy mist made visibility poor.  We could not see more than 20-25 yards.  We were ordered not to fire our weapons for fear of killing our own men.  We drew our kukris.  As soon as the mortar fire was lifted, jemadar Kharkabahadur yelled, "Gorkhali ayo!" and led the charge.

         Our assault team ran along the trench line.  The Japanese opened up with automatic weapons.  We jumped into a trench from which an enemy squad was firing.  They were quickly silenced.

         We advanced on to the main bunker.  The trench was filled with water and mud, slowing our movement.  We saw several retreating Japanese
in front of us.  Three of them slipped and fell in the mud, and were quickly decapitated.

         As we jumped out of that trench, we ran into a group of Japanese who charged us with fixed bayonets.  Several of our men fell to them.  As one Japanese soldier pulled his bayonet from a Gurkha's throat, I sprang and cut him down.  Then a Japanese and a Gurkha, locked in a life-or-death struggle, lost their footing and rolled on the ground.  I ran to them and impaled the enemy with my kukri.

         At another point, I parried a man charging with a bayonet and stepped in to kill him, but missed because of poor footing and accidentally cut the arm of a Gurkha next to me who was dodging an attacker of his own.  My attacker then hit me with his rifle butt and knocked me into the trench. I was unconscious for several minutes.

         As I was pulled out of the trench by my men, I heard the Gurkha victory cry.  The men from Companies A and B had finally secured the hill.  Many Japanese escaped under the cover of the heavy mist and smoke, leaving behind more than 100 dead.  Unfortunately our casualties had been equally high.

         Later, jemadar Kharkabahadur Rai from B Company was awarded a medal for his leadership and gallantry in recapturing Scraggy Hill.  The
men of the 3110th saluted him.

Action on Pimple Hill

         By the following day, all of the strategic hills around Shenam Pass had been cleared of Japanese resistance, except for one called Pimple Hill, adjacent to Scraggy.  A small force of Japanese held out there.

         My 3rd Platoon, now reinforced with many new and young recruits, was ordered to clear this little hill.  I had some doubts about my ability to lead and about the abilities of these untested Gurkha youths.  But I divided the platoon into three assault teams, and instead of advancing from one position, we ascended the hill from three different locations.

         The "Pimple" was about 2,500 high.  It had no steep cliffs or deep ravines.  As my column reached halfway up the hill, the Japanese fired from a machinegun nest.  We flanked that position and blew it up with grenades.  Farther up the hill, the Japanese fired from a small bunker.  It, too, was soon flanked and silenced.

         Several Japanese then crawled out of a tunnel and ran down the hill.  Our columns cross-fired and stopped their escape.  Then two stunned Japanese came out of a hole to surrender, raising their hands above their heads.  But as I approached them, another Gurkha rushed forward and slashed them with his kukri, killing them instantly.

         Then the Gurkha raised his kukri and yelled, "That is for my father in Singapore!" That soldier was only 16 years old.

         The small hill was secured, in a small action, by a small group of men.

Gen.  Slim's Visit

         On 27 July, Gen.  William Slim, commander of the victorious British 14th Army, visited our area. We cleaned and polished for this very special occasion.

         Lt. Col.  Cosens, the proud commander of our 3110 Gurkha Regiment, presented his battle-tested men to the visiting general.  We stood at attention with drawn kukris.

         Gen.  Slim slowly walked along the lines, looking at each man and his kukri. ]Fie stopped in front of my Jernadar, Bakhatbahadur Rai, leader of the 3rd Platoon of C Company, and congratulated him for his brilliant leadership during the battle for Gibraltar Hill.

         The general moved on and stopped before Jemadar Kharkabahadur Rai, leader of the Ist Platoon of A Company, and praised him for his
courageous leadership in retaking Scraggy Hill.

         Gen.  Slim's brilliant strategies, implemented by gallant and competent British commanders and their loyal Gurkha soldiers, had forever crushed the mystique of Japanese "invincibility" in Asia.

         We had avenged the shame of Singapore. Gorkhali ayo!