In Kohima, once an outpost of the British Raj, the air is often swollen with rain. When the clouds lift, they unveil a blue-green baize of hills with forests of bamboo and clusters of orchid. Kohima War Cemetery, often revered, mostly forgotten, stands tucked away on the gentle rise of Garrison Hill — a place of both revulsion and courage.
It was here, separated only by the few yards’ span of a tennis court, that the British, Indians and Japanese fought in a World War II battle so savage and heroic that it was voted Britain’s greatest ever. Row upon row of headstones — inscribed in English, and some in Devanagari and Arabic — mark the final resting place of 1,420 men of the Allied Forces. Under the burnt stubble of grass lie thousands of Japanese in mass graves, as birds sing from a cherry tree once used by snipers.
A view of the headstones and the outline of the tennis court at Kohima War Cemetery | Photo Credit: Getty Images/ iStock
Among the fascinating stories to emerge is the immutable link Kohima has with Charlotte Carty, a 54-year-old lawyer-turned-English tutor who lives thousands of miles away near Sherborne in the U.K. Since childhood, Carty had been drawn to a book by her mother’s bedside that outlined the early history of the Assam Regiment, one of the few that held back Japanese forces at the epic defence of Kohima when Japan spearheaded into Southeast Asia, Singapore, Malaya and Burma between 1942 and 1944.
“The book was about how the Assam Regiment was raised in 1941 by Colonel Ross Howman in Shillong, drawing troops from the Nagas, Khasis, Gurkhas and the Assamese, and in December that year, my maternal grandfather, Lieutenant Colonel W.F. ‘Bruno’ Brown, 44, took over as Commanding Officer. My mother, Mary, was Brown’s younger daughter, and she was still very young when he withdrew with his troops from Jessami, fought at Kohima, and was killed by a Japanese sniper later in the war in Zigon, Burma,” says Carty, speaking from the Nagaland capital on the afternoon of April 4, after walking from Jessami in Manipur, 80 years to the hour since the first shots of the Battle of Kohima were fired. “As the Internet grew, I looked more closely for information and there wasn’t much I could find about the Assam Regiment. I did discover, however, that Brown had already served in the North-West Frontier and Punjab before he headed East,” she adds.
Lt. Col. W.F. ‘Bruno’ Brown of the 1st Battalion, Assam Regiment | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Remembering the veterans
1st Assam Battalion spent the first couple of years patrolling the jungles of undivided Assam and on garrison duty at the Digboi oil fields. By 1943, the Japanese 15th Army was waiting to cross the Chindwin, about a hundred kilometres from Kohima. Brown and his men first left for Kohima in early February 1944, establishing defences at the villages of Jessami and Kharasom. In March, patrols brought news of Japanese invaders heading their way.
While the battles of Imphal, Jessami and Kohima are well-documented, the ultra-challenge that Brown and his men took to withdraw from Jessami to Kohima, scatter across the dense hills, then regroup and dig trenches with bare hands to fight at Kohima in a matter of 39 hours with the Japanese at their heels, is the stuff of legend.
Lt. Col. W.F. ‘Bruno’ Brown | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
“It wasn’t dinner table conversation at home; but this story remained with me. I thought the 80th anniversary was a good time to remember this incredible march, and given that we are losing our World War veterans — a 102-year-old Indian veteran who had fought with my grandfather at Jessami died on March 31 this year — there is an urgency to commemorate it. Those who fought in the Far East theatre did not receive the attention that those who fought in European campaigns received. I like to beat the drum about it because it has a personal connection,” says Carty.
The group that walked from Jessami to Kohima in 39 hours. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
She chanced upon Robert Lyman, a retired British infantry officer, military historian of World War II and author of many books, who in 2012 won the case for Kohima/ Imphal to be named Britain’s Greatest Battle at a National Army Museum (NAM) debate. “Lyman thought this was a wonderful venture because he believed that the history of these regiments stayed in India post-Independence and we don’t have as much information as we should have on the Indian stories of World War II,” says Carty.
Retired British infantry officer, military historian and author Robert Lyman. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
Beyond the white man’s perspective
Lyman, 61, also headed the Kohima Educational Trust set up by Battle of Kohima veterans to fundraise projects for the Nagas who were of tremendous support to the Allied forces. “The war has been largely written from the white man’s perspective on white men fighting the war and it’s a travesty because they were from over 20 countries. This is an important battle for India as well, with an overwhelming number of Field Marshal Slim’s 14th Army being Indians,” says Lyman, joining the conversation.
Both Lyman and Carty had been to the Northeast before the pandemic and for this walk roped in 18 people, mostly drawn from the families of those who fought in Kohima, among them Viscount Slim’s grandson and great-grandsons. “Battlefield tourism is now popular among the young in Britain, especially those wanting to know where their grandfathers fought,” says Lyman.
Setting off on the night of April 1 from Jessami. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
The group left Jessami on the night of April 1 to walk 124 kilometres, often traversing routes at an elevation of 2,000 metres. Unlike the soldiers, they did not throw off their hobnailed boots and walked into Kohima, 35 hours later. “We didn’t have the enemy at our heels, or run into ambushes, though we have our feet now in a variety of blister packs,” laughs Carty, adding that the Nagas joined them along the way, while others had come from Guwahati. “It was physically challenging but emotionally fulfilling. I went through several boxes of tissues! Brown died in 1945 just 200 yards from handing over his command and returning home. He was 45, he loved his men and they clearly loved him,” says Carty.
“You don’t have to be biologically involved to recognise bravery and this was the story of many regiments,” says Lyman, mentioning other heroes like Captain Jock Young who fought till the last man and the last bullet at Kharasom.
Charlotte Carty kneels at the headstone of a soldier from the Assam Regiment. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
In a countryside too pretty for war, the walk ended with a wreath-laying ceremony at the War Cemetery where Carty wore her grandfather’s regimental cap badge — a rhino. “His medals are at the NAM. This is what I have left of him,” she says.
Charlotte Carty and her husband with a photograph of her grandfather Lt. Col. Brown. | Photo Credit: Special Arrangement
This, and the words engraved on the Kohima Epitaph that insist to all passing by: ‘When you go home, tell them of us and say, For your tomorrow, we gave our today’.
deepa.alexander@thehindu.co.in
Published - June 07, 2024 12:39 pm IST
